


Like Real People Do

by ShinyGreenApple



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Forgiveness, Gingerrose - Freeform, Holding Hands, Post- Rise of Skywalker, Redemption, Romance, The kinkiest of kinks: love and affection, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22348378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyGreenApple/pseuds/ShinyGreenApple
Summary: With the war over, Hux adjusts to life within the Resistance, and grudgingly takes the opportunity to enjoy life the way he was never capable of before. He finds himself spending more and more time, willingly, with one Rose Tico, and the thought of falling for is as delightful as it is terrifying. She's one of few people willing to see the good that lies beneath his past sins, but is it enough?
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 58
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: Hux does not play well with others.

_ **"You must see with eyes unclouded by hate. See the good in that which is evil, and the evil in that which is good. Pledge yourself to neither side, but vow instead to preserve the balance that exists between the two.”** _

_ **-Hayao Miyazaki** _

[Sequel to In Vino Veritas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286197)

Rose was awakened the following morning by a steady rap at the door of her one-person dorm, padding bleary-eyed to the door and opening it to reveal Poe Dameron on the other side. He stared at her inquisitively for a moment, head tilted.“Good morning. Feeling ok?”

Memories of the night before came rushing back and she pushed them aside as if they would become visible to him if she dwelt on them too hard. She shook her head, grateful that she hadn’t indulged quite as intensely as her somewhat shady companion. “Um, yeah. Yeah, never better, why?”

“It’s the middle of the morning, not like you to sleep in. Beaumont was looking for you and we got a little worried, were afraid you might be sick, too.”

“Who’s sick?”

“Hugs. He was supposed to help with some structural repairs today but the poor guy was puking his guts up.” He glanced at her sideways. “Also kept complaining that the _sun_ was _too loud_. No big deal,” he shrugged. “Probably just has a virus, figured it was best to let him sleep it off.”

“Probably,” she nodded, not looking at him.

“Did you take a tumble?” he asked curiously.

Her eyes flew open, heart suddenly hammering in panic. “What?”

He spoke slower, rolling his eyes. “Did. You. Fall. And hurt yourself? You’ve got – ” he waved at her vaguely – “Just there,” he pointed at his own neck.

Her hands darted to her throat and she desperately hoped she wasn’t going red. “Oh, oh that. Yeah, must have. Clumsy.”

Poe’s eyes narrowed. “Uh huh. ‘Clumsy’”, he repeated. “That’s a nice coat, where’d you get it?” His eyes flicked down, brows lifted in amusement at the way said coat dragged the floor behind her. “It’s a little big on you, don’t you think?” His tone was neutral but his face held a world of accusations. “ _Anyways_ ,” he went on quickly, giving her a reprise from having to explain the comically large accessory, “I’ll see you at the command center ASAP.”

“Me?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re still an engineer, right? I dunno how long Hux is gonna be down with his ‘virus’, and stuff isn’t gonna repair itself.”

She forced a smile. “Of course. I’ll be there right away. Sir.”

“Eurgh, don’t call me that, makes me feel old. Just hurry up.” She watched him walk away for a bit before turning and thumping her head against the door frame.

“He knows,” she whispered to herself, horrified. “ _He knows, he knows, he knows_.” She turned to go back inside, closing the door and stumbling on the edges of Hux’s damnable coat and nearly tripping face first into the floor. She slipped out of it, wadding it up furiously and setting out to throw it across the room, scowling. Halfway through, she lowered her arms, shaking it out and folding it neatly instead, fondly stroking one of the lapels as she lay it on a chair. She had sincerely hoped the adolescent foolishness buzzing about in her head would have dissipated as she sobered up from the night before, common sense snapping her back into a logical state of mind, but it would seem the galaxy had other plans.

* * *

It was past dinner when Hux finally managed to give himself some semblance of humanity again, strolling wearily into the canteen after a quick shower. He poured himself some caf and grabbed a handful of fruit, turning about to find some place in the corner out of the way where no one would bother him; his stomach was still quite unhappy with his indulgence the night before and the light in the canteen was too bright for his liking. He was startled out of his fog as soon as he turned away from the caf maker, bumping into someone a bit taller even than he was, and more than a good bit broader. It took a moment for him to evaluate the bizarre circumstances that unfolded before him, almost in slow motion. Before he had a chance to panic over the sight of hot caf about to splash onto his front, it was suspended surreally in mid air for a few blinks before neatly rearranging itself back into his cup where it belonged. One of the fruits he carried slipped from his hand but was caught in the delicate grasp of a much larger one before it had a chance to hit the dusty floor. He started at it, eyes slowly raking up the torso, arm, neck, and finally face of the newcomer. It was startling how alike it was to the one he had known and despised for so long, and yet still managed to appear to be a different person entirely. However, in spite of the brighter eyes, now missing the tired red circles that had resided beneath them for so many years, and the absence of the scar that his temper and his pride had earned him, Hux had no love for this face.

Ben cautiously held his hand out, a single pear in his upturned palm. Hux reached out, nose wrinkled and appetite spoiled, and plucked it from him.

“Okay?” Ben asked tentatively, hands held up as non-threateningly as he could manage.

Hux looked away from him, calmly placing his items on a table, a horrible resolve now planted firmly in his head. He turned back around to face his old rival and superior, smiling softly for a split second before drawing his arm back, teeth gritted, and letting his fist connect with Ben’s face, just below his eye, the swift _crack_ startling the few people in the room.

Ben doubled over for just a moment and winced, gingerly prodding at his cheekbone and biting his lip at the pain. Hux smiled darkly at him for a moment or two before leaving the canteen altogether, unfazed by the stares and whispers that followed him on the way out.

Rey had, to no one’s surprise, appeared at Ben’s side before Hux was even halfway across the room. “What the _hell_ was that, why didn’t you stop him? You were about to, I could feel it.”

“No,” Ben shook his head, still prodding at his face; it wouldn’t be quite so handsome by morning. “No.” He repeated, watching his former co-commander and subordinate confidently retreating, for once, without fear of retribution. “He earned that one. So did I,” he added solemnly.

She took his hand, squeezing it tightly, her voice dropping to almost to a whisper. “What did you do to him?”

His eyes lowered and he stared at the floor. “Everything.”

* * *

Hux continued marching off through the jungle in no particular direction, heart thumping madly, triumphantly in his chest. What would anyone care if traitors who had joined them fought among themselves? He had gone some distance, fueled only by the adrenaline surging through his body and managing to cleanse the lingering effects of his hangover almost completely. He had wanted for _so long_ to punch Ren the way he deserved it, a desire that only grew with each passing day that the man claimed the title of Supreme Leader, and now he had done it, and it had felt ever better than he had imagined. He had made it back to a clearing in the flora, not far from the barracks where he slept, when said adrenaline began to wear off and he felt the physical effects of what he had done; they hit him with unfortunate haste. He stopped just beside a signal tower, sinking to the ground, letting out the howl of agony that had been at the edge of his lips for some time now. He went to his knees, cradling his right hand and hissing.

“FUCK! Kriff! _Karking bloody hell_!”

“Well, _now_ you’re just being dramatic. It’s been over a year since I tried taking that finger off.”

He turned to face the familiar voice, laugh-smiling in spite of the pain. “See?” he panted. “This is what happens when you don’t have any idea how to bite. Now I’ll be in misery for the rest of my days, thanks to your ineptitude. I hope you’re quite happy with yourself, Miss Tico.” He exhaled sharply through his lips, wincing again and squeezing his eyes shut.

“What did you really do?” she asked, crouching beside him.

He turned to her, still panting heavily. “It turns out Ren _is_ hardheaded, quite literally.”

It didn’t take her long to put two and two together, her mouth dropping open in horror. “Tell me you didn’t”, she groaned.

“Oh yes,” he said, rocking back and forth just a bit, chortling. “Yes I did.”

She stood up with a sigh, already weary of his maniacal bliss, and nudged his leg with the toe of her boot. “Come on, get up.” She hooked a hand under his arm and tugged, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s get ice on that. I have something of yours anyways.”

He sat in the tiny living area of her dorm, cross-legged on the floor with an ice pack over his hand. He was noticing that it was very much like his, almost identical, in fact, when his stomach gurgled loudly.

“Have you eaten anything?” Rose asked mischievously, “Or are you surviving on pure spite these days?”

“Vengeance, not spite. Learn the difference, little rebel. But to answer your question, no, I haven’t eaten since yesterday and I’m fairly certain I regurgitated everything I’ve ingested since I was twenty over the course of the day.”

“Wow, I really did not need to know that last bit, but thanks. Sit tight, I’ll get you something. I’m surprised you haven’t wasted away already, you’re so scrawny.”

“Vengeance is a powerful supplement,” he smiled fondly to himself.

She returned a few minutes later and sat down beside him, handing him a bowl of soup and a plate with some toast. “Try not to regurgitate it,” she winked, crossing her legs.

“Why would I, is your cooking that bad?”

“Watch it,” she warned. She stared at him, amused, while he fussed with his dinner, evidently still unused to eating on the floor or even having real, palatable food to eat in the first place. “So what were you hoping to accomplish, slugging Ben in the face?”

Hux shrugged, pushing the last bite of toast into his mouth and setting the plate down beside him. “He deserved it.” He swallowed and glanced up, seeing by the look on her face that she was not at all convinced. “You wouldn’t understand,” he added quietly.

“Try me.”

He raised his eyebrows, almost defiantly. “Alright then. Do you remember when I had you onboard the _Supremacy_ , on your knees before me, at my mercy.”

She looked away, her expression darkening. “I’d rather not.”

“You said ‘try me’, so I’m trying you. _Look_ at me.”

His voice had taken on it’s old stern tone and it was with great reluctance that she dragged her eyes up to meet his, surprised and comforted at the hint of regret she found in them.

“Very good. Think about that day, the things I said. The things I did, how I slapped your friend in the face.”

“Please stop.”

“How did you feel that day, Miss Tico?”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Small. Helpless. Hopeless. Humiliated.” She looked down in the hopes he wouldn’t see the wetness in her eyes. She hated reliving those moments, knowing he had made her experience those emotions.

“But you were both so certain that your side would still win, would be victorious. Your precious Resistance would go on fighting another day, even if you died for its cause. Why would you feel any of those things?” When no reply came, he went on anyways. “Now imagine, that in spite of my obvious contempt and low opinion of you, that instead of having you disposed of, I forced you to serve under my command. Would that have made you feel better? Imagine living like that, except in addition to the constant belittlement and humiliation, you had to worry about my invisible hand around your neck, my voice in your head at night, the terror of never knowing if it would be _you_ that I’d direct my anger at next, whether you were the cause of it or not?”

She hastily brushed at her eyes and forced herself to look at him again. He noticed how her eyes had gone red and looked away, pretending to be interested in an old Rebel Alliance poster hanging on the wall before continuing.

“For a solid year I lived like that, the only thing that kept me sane was when I decided ‘to hell with it all’ and started leaking information.” His voice softened. “To you of all people, as it turned out. But back to your new friend Mr. Solo, tell me, had you lived like that for so long, wouldn’t you have at the very least wanted to take a good swing at me?”

“I wanted to take a swing at you and then some after five minutes,” she replied quietly with a smile.

“I remember,” the corners of his mouth turned up. “I’ve bruised Ben’s pretty face for the same reason you took a bite out of me. Can you really fault me for that?”

“I can fault you for _a lot_ of things,” she stated bluntly. “I’m still not going to condone what you did – have I tried hitting _you_ since you got here?”

“No, but you were rough enough removing that IV. I almost bled out in the infirmary.”

“I’m not a medic and you wouldn’t wait for one! I told you I didn’t know what I was doing. And you were nowhere near _bleeding out_ , don’t be dramatic. Anyways you’re dodging the subject. Could you try _not_ to punch people anymore? You’re supposed to be behaving, remember?”

He delicately peeked under the ice pack, wincing at the way his hand was already swollen and beginning to bruise. A tentative flex of the fingers told him even now that it was going to be stiff for some time. “That I can agree to, once was certainly enough. But it was also very much worth it.” He replaced the pack once more, sighing in relief at the numbness it gave him, at the same time giving a little shudder from the chill of it. A comfortable weight suddenly pressed onto his shoulders as the heavy black fabric of his greatcoat made an appearance in his peripheral vision. Rose stood behind him, her small hands smoothing it down over his shoulders.

“I think I accidentally stole this last night.”

He smiled to himself. “No you didn’t, I sent you away with it. Didn’t want you getting cold on my account.”

“I didn’t get cold but I did get into trouble.” She recalled her conversation with Poe that morning, annoyed at the amusement on his face.

“Dameron can prove nothing. Anyone could have done this.” He reached up, tracing the marks on her neck with his fingers, a look of pride and accomplishment brightening his face.

“But _you_ did it.”

He lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, hand wrapping around hers and grasping it tightly. “And you encouraged it.” He brought her fingers to his lips, pressing lingering kisses to her knuckles, never breaking eye contact. “One word, the slightest hint you wished for me to stop is all it would have taken. As a matter of fact, I recall you wanting to continue.”

She bit her lip, glancing away from him and crouching down to pick up his empty dishes.

“Don’t do that,” he frowned, grabbing her wrist. “I’ve got it.” He uncrossed his legs, grunting as he’d tried pulling himself up by the left one and then hissing in pain when he fell forward and caught himself – with his newly injured, probably fractured, hand. “Hell,” he panted, now on all fours and feeling as ridiculous as he looked.

“Here,” she rolled her eyes, putting his arm around her shoulders and helping him to his feet. “You need to be more careful, you’re falling apart on us,” she teased, handing him the plate and bowl.

“I’ve been doing that for years, I suppose it was bound to catch up to me sooner or later.”

“How’s your stomach?”

“Better,” he called out from the tiny kitchenette over the sound running water. “Thank you.”

“Feel up to a walk?”

He peered out the nearest window. “You go walking in the dark every night? I thought it’d been an anomaly.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, spy guy. Are you coming, or not?”

“It’s going to rain,” he said matter-of-factly.

“The sky’s perfectly clear. If you don’t want to go, just say so.”

“Did I say I didn’t want to go?”

***

They hadn’t been walking longer than twenty minutes when he started to slow down. He decided he’d have his leg rechecked in the morning. She led them through one of many shortcuts she had either created or discovered that brought them once again to the grassy little ridge overlooking the valley.

“You really should carry a cane, you wouldn’t have such a hard time,” she said, helping him lower himself down.

“Got shot the last time I carried one of those. They’re bad luck.”

“You got _shot_ because you were a horrible liar,” she laughed.

“Lasted a damn sight longer undercover than you did.”

“Rub it in,” she muttered.

He sighed, brows furrowed, and made to scoot closer, wincing when he felt something hard and uncomfortable pressing into his backside. He patted at the ground beneath him and found the culprit, smiling when he opened his palm to reveal one of the corks from the night before. He absentmindedly squirreled it away in one of his many pockets and resumed scooting until their thighs just touched.

Her cheeks were all but on fire as she tried her best to ignore the proximity; a day ago she had been content with him being an annoying, if invaluable ally, and it had still been easy enough to conjure up a healthy amount of hatred for him, even. While she genuinely _did_ believe he had the capacity to be good, she knew that it would never absolve his lifetime of sins and wasn’t sure sneaking off alone for ‘biting lessons’ was the right way to go about rehabilitating him. Not that said lessons had been unpleasant, not in the least . . . She cautiously turned now to face him, taken aback by the pinched, almost pained expression he wore.

“Are you ok?” she asked, concerned.

It was as if he had been having the same thoughts. “Look, I – I wanted to tell you. I can never truly make it up or take it back, but I am sorry for what I’ve done. And honestly I’m not even nearly as sorry as I know I should be.” He cleared his throat and looked down, suddenly very interested in a lone orbak that stood grazing in the valley below.

“Change doesn’t happen instantly,” she replied, resting her hand on his thigh, gently this time.

“If I could take back what I said and did to you aboard _Supremacy_ , I would.”

“Just to me? Not Finn?”

“I told you I’m not as sorry as I should be. Mostly I’m still sorry for myself.”

“You are an unbelievably huge asshole.” Her scowl faded just a bit though, when she turned to look at him. “But you’re sober and still apologizing, so I’ll count that as a small victory.”

“So much for everything ‘not being about winning’,” he scoffed.

“It’s a battle I’m fighting _with_ you, stupid. Not against you.”

“Ugh, are you implying we’re on the same side?” His face was twisted into distaste, but the hints of that elusive playful smile shone through in all the right places. “Revolting.”

“We’ve been on the same side for months now, no matter what you say. Since that first transmission.”

“What a loathsome thought,” he replied, clearly not meaning a word of it.

“If you say so,” she smiled, patting his leg, concerned at her own lack of surprise when he slipped his hand beneath hers, lacing their fingers together. It also concerned her that she let him do it without hesitation, but the warmth of his tight grasp was not at all reminiscent of a cold and uncaring war criminal.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked with a sterile sincerity.

“Yes.” She looked down, unsure as to why she didn’t want to meet his eyes. She felt his hand begin to pull away and closed her fingers around it tightly. “But don’t let go.”

They sat quietly for an impressively long time, the only sounds reaching them tonight that of a quiet breeze and varied animals in the distance. She finally broke the silence when she noticed him yawning, bringing his free hand to his mouth to try and hide it.

“That … looked weird.”

“I’m flattered.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just not used to seeing you tired. Even in holos, you always looked . . .”

“Tweaky?”

“I wasn’t going to say that. But yeah,” she laughed.

“You do things very differently here, I’m still unaccustomed to being fed and kept properly. Neither the Order or the Academy before that allowed me luxuries like chewing my food and sleeping for longer than a few hours at a time. We had to be creative about staying on top of our game.”

“Stim tabs?”

“Mmmhmm,” he nodded. “And caf. We used to joke that they should just combine the two and save us the time. A few of us might have actually tried it.” He glanced down, lips curving up at the look of horror on her face. “For the record, I do _not_ recommend it. That was a long week.”

“You tried it for a week?” she gaped.

“No, I tried it for a day. I was awake for a week.”

“Sounds like you were all insane.”

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “It was life. And now . . .” he shook his head. “Now, I don’t know. I’m simply stuck here on your godforsaken base, not quite a prisoner, not quite a free man, working under the command of a man who will insist on calling me _‘Hugs’._ ” His face took on that all too familiar look as if he had caught a whiff of something foul.

“You know you’re a little more fun when you’re drunk.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.”

He rose to his knees and turned to face her, his injured hand resting on her shoulder. He leaned down, face inches from hers, his breath ghosting over her cheeks. “Why would you say that? What is it, exactly, that drunk me did that was so _fun_? Come now, don’t be coy, we haven’t got all night.”

It was impressive, the length of time she managed to fix him with a stony stare before she finally, frustratingly, cracked. She couldn’t really have any hard feelings about it, since he hadn’t lasted much longer, his face stretching out into that uncharacteristic, but visually pleasing smile, the one that actually reached his eyes.

“It would seem we’re both quite different when inebriated, you were hardly at such a loss for words last night. Answer me,” he whispered, lips against her ear. “Answer me or I shall never teach you anything ever again.” And then she had taken his face in her hands and placed the softest of kisses to his lips, her thumbs stroking his cheeks gently in response to his low hum of contentment.

“Honestly,” she murmured, “I thought that was the real reason for you dragging me out here. Your ludicrous biting lessons.”

“No,” he replied softly. “My leg really does hurt. Although I _am_ eager to see how well you retained my sage knowledge, but I’ll leave the when and where up to you. We really don’t have time tonight, though, I’m afraid.”

“Why not?” she asked, disappointed at the playfulness in her voice.

As if on queue, a single fat drop of water splashed down onto his nose, exploding into so many glistening droplets and causing him to blink. “I _told_ you, it’s going to rain.”

“Radar didn’t predict rain until tomorrow morning,” she lamented, getting to her feet and helping him do the same.

“And an _Arkanian_ told you it’s going to rain _tonight_. You’ll know better which one to listen to next time, I hope.”

“Come on,” she sighed, pulling a torch from her pocket and clicking it to life. “Maybe we won’t get drenched by the time it takes us to get back to barracks.

“Your grotesque optimism is very unattractive, Miss Tico.”

“And like I said earlier, you’re a horrible liar, Mr. Hux.”

“Ugh. Let’s just get going.”

Her grotesque optimism burned strong, in spite of the fact that they did, in fact, get thoroughly soaked by the time they reached the barracks, hair plastered to their faces. They stood in the threshold of her small apartment, water dripping onto the floor.

“You’re a mess,” she teased softly, taking in the sight of him, standing awkwardly with most of his weight on one leg and his right hand pulled close to his body.

“I’ll go to medbay in the morning,” he replied, delicately picking the hair away from her face and stroking it back.

“You’d better,” she warned. “I got stuck doing your job for you today, don’t get used to it.”

“So sorry,” he said with no small amount of sarcasm. “Can I make it up to you?”

She looked down at the sopping mess that was her floor. “You could mop this up, actually.”

“Oh,” he frowned “I had something different in mind.”

“Really.”

He nodded, pulling her close and leaning down to kiss her. Firmly. Not quite possessively.

She really needed to put the brakes on this, she thought, even as she returned his affections, hands at his lapels, holding him close for far longer than either of them intended.

He wore that smug look when he broke their kiss, standing to his full height and gazing down at her. “Does that do to the trick?”

“Hardly,” she replied, managing to force a sneer. “But don’t worry, I’m keeping tabs on you.”

“I hope so,” he said, voice deadly calm and level when his breathing had been ragged only moments before.

“Goodnight, Hux.”

“Goodnight, little rebel.” With that, he turned on his heel and left, closing the door softly as he went, leaving both her floor and her mind a mess. She contemplated both as she stood alone in her home now, resolving to grab a mop and clean up the puddles of water lest she get up in the morning and go slipping to her death. She had turned around from the storage closet, mop in hand, when she was startled by a presence and a voice in the kitchenette.

“Finn’s gonna shit a brick.”

She stumbled backwards, hand over her chest, leaning against the counter. “Kriff, Poe!” She yelled. “You can’t go sneaking up on people like that. How did you get in here, anyways?”

“You left your door unlocked,” he said, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “In an awful hurry to steal away for alone time, I’m guessing?”

“Look, General, it’s not –”

He shook his head and waved a hand at her. “No, no ‘General’. We’re just friends here right now, okay? Just two friends, talking. As for what it’s not,” he shrugged, “I wanna say it’s probably not any of my business.”

She stared at him, eyes widening. That was not at all the response she had expected.

“However,” he went on, holding a finger up, “I can’t stop the criticism that we both know is gonna come if this gets out. He’s not irreformable, I know that, and I feel confident saying that you know it, too. I wouldn’t have saved him that day if I didn’t think so. But,” he winced. “He’s not a popular guy. Some people aren’t as willing to forgive as others. He punched Ben Solo in the canteen today.”

“Yeah, yeah I heard about that. He was pretty proud of himself.”

“Petty little shit,” Poe laughed. “That kind of attitude already almost got him killed a few times now. Anyways,” he said, voice softening, “I just wanted to tell you that this . . . whatever this is, I’m not gonna condemn it. We’re fresh out of a war and still cleaning up the messes left behind, people do strange stuff and give in to feelings that might be . . . out of character. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders and you always do the right thing. But this doesn’t exactly have my blessing, either. We both know what he was, what he still is, and any change in him isn’t gonna happen overnight. Just – just be careful.”

“You know I will,” she sighed.

“I hope so,” he smiled gently. “Anyways, I won’t impose, it’s late. Have a good night, Rose.”

She smirked as he cautiously stepped over the puddle in front of the door. “So you’re not gonna help me with that, either?”

“What?” He stared down at the mess and back up at her mischievously. “Oh, _hell_ no. You wanna keep him? You’re gonna clean up after him.”


	2. Of Orbaks and Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux continues to allow Rose and other Resistance members to coax him into giving their ridiculous way of life a genuine chance, to his annoyance. He begins to have questions that want answering, while an unexpected assignment disrupts the routine he has allowed himself to be lulled into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re: Beamont Kin. I highly suggest checking out his Wookieepedia page. He didn't get much screen time in TRoS other than walking Star Wars dictionary, but his character background was actually really promising and I couldn't resist giving him a part in this story. He was crucial in helping Rey decipher the Jedi texts she took from Luke's temple and was actually very good friends with our favorite Wookiee to the point he understands the language and is on a first name basis with him.

He was delayed on his way to medbay, in spite of his attempt to arrive well before dawn.

“Hux, is it? I thought I’d find you here.”

“Congratulations on having a correct thought,” he replied cautiously, feeling defensive in spite of being the larger of the two. The girl seemed unassuming enough, not at all what one would expect with the stories that had arisen, but even without the added recent events of Exegol, it was enough that he remembered finding Ren bested and unconscious, both times after an encounter with this little one. They remained the only two times he had seen Ren so much as lose his footing, let alone succumb to defeat. “Can I help you?” he managed to maintain his stoic, bored facade, able to retain a decent amount of confidence in spite of his uncertainty about her; after all if she could see the good in Ben, of all people, she was either exceptionally stupid or exceptionally kind. Maybe both.

“Actually, I’d like to help you,” she replied, her face open and inviting. _Smiling_ , even. “May I see your hand?”

He stared at her for a moment, lifting his left hand to his face, one eyebrow quirked arrogantly. He turned his palm to her and back again, wiggling his fingers. She pursed her lips, closing her eyes as if asking an unseen presence for patience for just a moment before looking at him again.

“Your _other_ hand. The one you hit him with.”

“Come to get back at me for that, have you?”

“No!” she snapped, now growing impatient. “I tried cutting his face in half the day I met him, trust me, I understand the urge.” She nodded at him. “Come on, let me see. Good,” she smiled softly when he finally relented. “Hold still,” she said, almost soothingly as she held his injured hand delicately in her grasp, her fingers outstretched ominously over his bruised knuckles.

Before he had the chance to ask what in bloody hell she was doing, he noticed the angry red and purple marks decreasing rapidly in size, and the continuous ache that had kept him from sleep retreating along with them. A few delicate, miniscule little clicks followed; fractures falling back into place and repairing themselves, if he had to guess, and then she had withdrawn her touch, both physical and unseen.

“Good as new,” she smiled, satisfied with her work, glancing over his hand again, appraisingly.

“Why?” he asked, a little scowl on his face that implied confusion more than displeasure.

“Do you really _want_ it getting out, the fact that simply hitting his big head did that to you?” she smirked at him. “You’re welcome, Mr. Hux.”

He frowned, flexing his hand experimentally as if he expected it to have been a temporary trick, but no. He merely nodded at her, grudgingly, before staring towards medbay and turning to head in the opposite direction. His leg was fine, really. For now.

He did not see her smile at him as he went, knowing that he still had no trust and even less love for those with the ability to use the Force, and she could hardly blame him given the experiences he’d had with both of his former leaders. Changing his views could take years, maybe a lifetime, even, but she knew it was her obligation to at least try. After all, it had already worked once, hadn’t it?

* * *

A wave of tension followed him into the canteen that morning, though he felt he was adding to some discomfort already there rather than being responsible for it entirely. He was right; Ben was at the end opposite from him, tray in hand, now blearily looking for a place to sit. A quick glance showed him that his eye was half swollen shut, varying shades of blue and purple blooming outwards from lid to cheek. Hux allowed himself a quick smirk before neutralizing his expression again, quickly grabbing some caf and a muffin before sitting down beside Beamont Kin, Captain of Intelligence operations. Kin had assisted in translating most of Hux’s info alongside Rose, and had been annoyingly pleased, but surprised to finally meet his informant. He was cautious in greeting his mole this morning, however, having been witness to the unforeseen wallop Hux had given Ben the previous evening.

“Morning,” he muttered, glancing up from his book.

“Captain Ewok,” Hux nodded curtly.

Beaumont eyed him for a moment or two before slowly dragging his eyes back to the page. A snarky, short-on-words Hux was preferable to one figuratively foaming at the mouth and spoiling for a fight. His relief was short-lived, however, when he felt another figure sink into the chair on his opposite side and realized he was trapped between Armitage Hux and the man he hated most in the galaxy. He wasn’t sure if he should have been relieved or more concerned when Rey appeared and say directly opposite him, her face trying to convey sympathy for him without alerting the other two.

“Got your lab all moved out of that musty old building, Beau?” she asked with almost forced casualness.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. It was mostly droid work, I just supervised. Didn’t want to go in more than I had to, you know, since Rose and Mr. Hux here seemed to think it derelict.” He patted Hux on the shoulder, forcing a smile.

Hux just shrugged. “Wouldn’t want you crushed to death. Gods know it wouldn’t take much.”

“No,” he replied tersely.“It really wouldn’t.”

Rey was desperately scrambling for conversation, trying not to let her face show the discomfort that everyone was obviously experiencing due to Ben’s looming presence. Her eyes landed in front of Hux, where he picked at his muffin, seeming genuinely curious about the red chunks of fruit scattered throughout it.

“It’s Jaquira, do you like it?” she asked when he had tentatively popped it into his mouth with a frown.

He shrugged. “It’s food.” He could see right through what she was doing and was in no mood to entertain it. He glanced past Beaumont, who was slowly but steadily scooting away from the table a little bit at a time, and at Ben, who still did not look at him but fidgeted with something in his hands.

Rey turned her attention to Kin, who had read the same paragraph in his book precisely eleven times and hadn’t absorbed a single word of it. “What’s on your agenda today?

He raised his eyebrows. “A lot of nothing, actually. Poe told me to take the day off, so I thought I’d get some valuable R&R squeezed in.”

“Lucky,” she quipped, seeming to relax a bit. “I’ll be in the Falcon all day, looks like. It’s begging for repairs – _again_.” Ben’s miniscule curve of the lips did not escape her attention. “Ben, you’ll help me?”

The smile faded from his face and gave way to uncertainty and . . . sadness? “Oh,” he stammered. “I – I really – ”

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” She hooked her fingers around the object he’d been turning over in his hands and examined it: a pair of gold dice connected by a chain. Her expression turned bittersweet and she dropped it back into his hand, pushing his fingers closed around it. “Come on,” she coaxed, grab something and we can eat on the way.

He stared at her for a moment, brows knit, before rising, giving Hux a final, disappointed glance and following her towards the open door where sunlight now poured in liberally.

“Thank you for not hitting him again,” Kin said dryly when they were out of sight.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to tarnish my good reputation.”

The captain actually smiled, closing his book and placing it on the table. “Care to go for a ride with us, Hux?”

* * *

He had, to his own surprise, said yes, without even bothering to find out who ‘we’ entailed or what they would be riding. An hour later, he was climbing out of Kin’s speeder and setting foot in the grassy valley that he had spent the past two nights overlooking; Rose was already there, checking the tacking on one of the enormous Orbaks that had been brought from the ocean moon. Another stood already in gear. She turned around, her face brightening in pleasant surprise.

“Beau, how in the world did you manage to wrangle him into coming?”

“I asked him,” he shrugged.

“Okay,” she laughed, pulling a stirrup down. “Do you know how to ride, Hux? I can saddle another one for you.”

“Been a hot decade or two,” he replied with a grimace,his mind going to the diplopods he had ridden as a cadet.

“And you’re still gimpy,” she winked “We’ll get you Paz, she’s an easy ride.”

He frowned as he found himself holding Paz’s reins several minutes later while Kin and Rose tacked her. She was a dull gray in color with a healthy smattering of white around the eyes that suggested she had seen quite a few seasons in her time.

“You brought _this_ poor thing into battle aboard a star destroyer?” he asked incredulously. Paz bumped her large head into his shoulder, rubbing against him gently.

“Nah,” Kin smiled. “But Jannah said when the poor girl saw the rest of her herd going, they couldn’t just leave her. She missed out on all the action but she was happy to see her kids at the end of it.”

“Her _kids_?”

“Her foals,” Rose smiled, gesturing at the other two orbak and then pointing out at ones grazing in the distance. “She’s mother to most of them.”

“You’re assigning a lot of sentimentality to a hairy, ugly beast,” he stated disapprovingly. Paz stomped one of her rear hoofs.

“Hey now, maybe they think you’re bald and ugly. Be nice,” Rose grinned, patting the saddle. She took the reins from Hux and swung them up over the orbak’s neck. “You’re all set.”

He stalked around to Paz’s right hand side; it was the wrong way but he felt that mounting was going to be enough of a challenge without trying to pull his entire weight up on an injured quadricep. He managed decently in spite of not having ridden a beast in years, feeling an odd sense of triumph as he swung his leg over and found the other stirrup with ease. It was disconcerting, the organic feel of Paz beneath him, having to adjust his seat and balance with every shift of her muscles. It was alarmingly similar to being naked; he had grown so accustomed to mechanical transport that to have something alive and unpredictable and possibly out of his control was foreign and a bit unsettling. Paz turned her great head to him, large brown eyes meeting his and looking alarmingly reassuring. She prodded at his leg with her muzzle before facing forward once more, awaiting his command.

Rose and Kin sidled up to him on either side, both of their mounts golden and a bit more spirited than his own. “Ready?” Rose asked. He nodded wordlessly.

“Sure about that, mate? You look a bit peaky.” Kin looked him up and down, concerned.

Hux sighed, straightening in the saddle and jutting his chin out. “Just my natural complexion”, he replied dismissively, and nudged Paz into an ambling walk, unaware of the amused gazes passing between his companions.

“This is nice, right?” Kin said after a while. “Just like old times. Except you’re here and not sending encrypted messages in foreign languages. You kept me on my toes, Hux. And saved our skins,” he added quietly.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Don’t remind you that you helped save us or that you’re actually here in person?” Rose asked, glancing sidelong at him.

“Both,” he sneered dryly.

“I like your wardrobe change, at any rate.”

He stared down at his clothes – he had swapped out the black of his ruined uniform for the khaki and brown that he had found in his rooms, more out of necessity than desire. It wasn’t as if Dameron had the time to grab him a new set before stealing away with him, and it had only been pure luck that the coat had previous fallen from his shoulders in the elevator he had led them to. He had woken up aboard the Millenium Falcon with it draped heavily over him.

“Ugh,” was his only response to the her compliment. While a part of him still oddly craved the stiff familiarity of the uniforms he had worn for most of his life, he would never admit how much more comfortable he found his new garb. His current position in particular would have been especially aggravating. He did not smile, merely letting his face relax out of the feigned annoyance, which was just as well, as he nudged Paz out of a walk, pleased that her spirit did not match her age. She lifted her ears and transitioned into a pleasantly comfortable but brisk trot, almost as if she had been hoping he would let her pick up the pace. He heard the other two orbaks hoof-beats speed up as well, which prompted Paz to quickly graduate them to a canter. He faltered in his saddle just a bit but adjusted quickly, finding something undeniably therapeutic about the rhythm of it along with the squeak of leather and the orbak huffing beneath him as she thundered on with purpose although headed in no particular direction. He was only vaguely aware of Rose and Kin just behind him; the view of the valley passing by and the wind making a disaster of his hair seemed much more relevant at the moment. He heard Rose scream his name and Kin laughing when he gave Paz her head, content to let her take him where she pleased and she began to gallop in earnest.

He didn’t know where she was taking him but only closed his eyes and took in the experience of it, no longer caring about the view and instead relishing in the thrill of the movement itself and the smell of grass and earth underneath them. He opened his eyes again only when he felt himself begin to lose balance, clumsily readjusting his seat yet again as she descended a slope towards the river and slowed her gait. He glanced over his shoulder, forgetting to wipe the ridiculous expression off his face first, and saw his companions also slowing down and picking their way towards him. By the time the reached him, he had dismounted and sat crouched down, watching Paz drink her fill at the water’s edge.

“You’re still ugly and hairy,” he whispered. “But thank you.” She blinked slowly, staring at him, almost human-like, before playfully sloshing water towards him and going back to her drink.

“And you said she was an _easy ride_ ,” he smirked as Rose hopped from the saddle and joined them.

“I never said she was slow, just trusted that she wouldn’t let you fall. Didn’t expect you to take off on us like that, though.”

He shrugged. “Neither did I. But I’m finding a lot of things happening lately that I might not have expected.”

  
  


They had ridden back the long way around and at a lazy walk, making it near midday when they arrived where Kin had parked his speeder. Hux fumbled a bit, but was determined to unsaddle Paz himself; having other people do things he was capable of, it seemed, only brought satisfaction if he had ordered them to do it in the first place. He shouldered saddle and bridle and followed Rose into the makeshift barn.

“Aren’t you worried Jannah will be upset you’ve put First Order trash astride one of her precious beasts?” he asked, hanging up the tack.

“She might be a little miffed, yeah. But she’s not here, is she? And you are _not_ First Order trash. At least not anymore,” she added slyly.

“Almost was literally. They were going to flush me out an airlock if your little band of misfits hadn’t gotten to me first.”

“The _airlock_?” she gaped. “But you were one of the most powerful Generals in the entire order.”

“Before Ren. My fall from grace was swift,” he smiled sadly. “And you know how strongly we felt about traitors. The higher up they were, the more the offense stung our pride. There would be no burial with honors for me. It was a strange day when rebels stealing away with me while I was half-dead seemed a welcome idea.”

“Like you said,” she smiled. “Stranger things.”

“Every day, anymore,” he replied, eyes theatrically wide. The way he rubbed at his hand did not go unnoticed.

“You did go to medbay, then. You didn’t get them to recheck your leg?”

“No and no. She didn’t let me make it to medbay. Having fractures erased by supernatural means drove my leg from my mind.”

“She?” Rose asked, curiously amused.

“The girl.”

“She has a name.”

“Several. One which she refuses to acknowledge, if I understand correctly.”

“Do you blame her?”

“I was born a bastard, Miss Tico. My father was uneager to let me bear his name, especially once he deemed me weak and useless. He forced me to earn a right I didn’t want, the right to be called a Hux. I had him disposed of like he always dreamed and attempted doing to me, and then I claimed his name as my own. No one will remember Brendol Hux and his deranged Academy, the mere boys he turned on each other, broke their spirits. But they’ll remember me, the man who raised the Order to the height of its glory, who erased the stars. And then . . .”

“The one who tore it all down,” she said quietly.

“The one who tore it down,” he nodded. “Although, as much as it pains me, we’ll have to give Ren some credit for that. If he hadn’t made me hate him so much, had worked together the way I know we could have before Snoke turned us on each other’s throats . . . well then, our positions right now would be quite different.”

“I like you better in this one.”

“Outranked?” he sneered playfully.

“Yeah,” she smirked, heading for the door. “Outranked.”

* * *

“I’m still not sure what your obsession with feeding me is all about.”

“It’s just how I was raised, you feed people.” She rolled her eyes wearily. “Besides, given that your obsessions included disintegrating planets and galactic tyranny, you don’t really have any room to criticize. Wash your hands.”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yeah well, I can be now. You should be grateful I don’t make you call me ‘Commander’.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She bit her lip, freezing for a split second as she removed a cloth from one of the bowls that rested on the counter. “Behave. This isn’t that kind of lesson.”

“Lesson?” he frowned, drying his hands and peering at the bowls. “What is this?”

“It’s bread.”

“It’s raw.”

“I’m impressed,” she smiled up at him.

“What, that I know what the inside of a kitchen looks like?”

“Um… actually yes.” She winced, sheepish.

“You’ll find there are a lot of things you don’t know about me, little rebel. Now, consider this a refresher course and not so much a lesson.” He took the liberty of dusting his hands with flour. “May I ask why you’re doing this instead of eating in the canteen?”

She shrugged. “I like to. It’s noisy in the canteen and sometimes it’s nice to have quiet and the satisfaction of doing something yourself. We cooked a lot together at home when I was a kid.”

He looked down guiltily. _Before the Order happened to them._ He felt the sudden and uncharacteristic urge to apologize swooping over him again, but her face remained passive while she too coated her hands in flour.

“Ready?” she asked with a smile. He forced himself to do the same.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Bear with me, my hands were . . . significantly smaller last time I did this.”

It was with mixed feelings that he punched down into his ball of dough; he expected that disgust would have been his first reaction, however only bittersweet nostalgia flooded his senses as he made contact with the slightly sticky, squishy substance. He was so lost in his own feelings that he failed to notice his companion’s almost identical expression, for she too, was lost in melancholy memory. While she thought of a large, bustling, and noisy household, his mind dwelt on how quiet it had been except for his childish giggles mingled with his mother’s adoring, silvery laughter. She had been beautiful and Brendol had not deserved her in the least.

They worked together in remarkably comfortable silence for several minutes; Rose glanced down at his dough with a soft smile. “Looks like your hands remember, even if they’re bigger now.”

“And yours,” he mumbled softly.

“I never really stopped. I’m sorry you had to.”

“Me too.” The smile faded from his face as he imagined Brendol had never taken him from that, that he had remained a lowly servant, making bread and singing songs and winning the hearts of the girls working alongside him. He wouldn’t have managed to end billions of lives, at the very least. He couldn’t help the absurd laugh that escaped his lips at the thought.

“What’s funny?” she asked with amused, forced casualness.

He crinkled his face, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just a ridiculous thought.”

“About what?” she inquired, deliberately bumping her hip into him.

“This”, he responded with a smirk, dipping his hand back into the flour container and flinging a handful of it right at her.

She stood stock still, mouth gaping open, face absurdly coated in white dusting before carefully brushing it from her eyelids and staring at him incredulously. The glaring only lasted a beat or two before she reacted in kind, grabbing an even larger amount and aiming it at his hair, mostly missing spectacularly as the flour exploded in a puff against his neck and the side of his face instead.

“How _dare_ you!” he growled, the curve of his traitorous lips giving away lack of any real indignation.

“ _So_ sorry, _General_ ,” she giggled childishly. “Let me make amends.”

He watched her through one eye, the other watering from the flour particles that had made their way into it, while she grabbed a washcloth and held it under the faucet for a moment.

“Come here, hold still.” She reached up, gently swiping it over his closed eye first. “I really am sorry about that,” she winced. “But to be fair, you started it.”

“I did,” he grinned. “And it’s really no more than I deserve.”

“Don’t say that,” she scolded softly, now drawing the damp cloth over his cheek. “It’s not about what anyone deserves anymore.”

“I honestly can’t decide if you’re incredibly optimistic or incredibly stupid.”

“Sometimes the two go hand in hand,” she said slyly, giving his neck a quick swipe and tossing the cloth at the sink, her hand returning to his neck, thumb caressing the wet skin and eyes suddenly fixated on the pale transparency of it. She tore her gaze away, forcing her mind to stop telling her how soft and warm and tight it would be in the grasp of her teeth, under her tongue; at least for now. Instead, she reached up to dust more stray flour out of his hair and went back to work on the dough.

“Come on,” she prodded gently. “We can finish up the soup while these rest one more time.”

His eyebrows rose curiously as she handed him a knife. “Are sure?” he smirked.

“That you can cut vegetables? No. But you can learn. And if you chop your finger off, I’ll have Rey come and fix it,” she laughed.

“Then she’ll find out you gave me a weapon,” he grinned, holding said knife in front of his face, eyes narrowed.

“That’s when we conveniently remember seeing Ben with a lightsaber a couple of nights ago.”

“ _Blackmail_ ,” he whispered, smiling almost proudly. “It would seem there are things I don’t know about you, either.”

“That shouldn’t surprise you. It wasn’t exactly honesty that got me aboard your horrible star destroyer.”

“True”, he responded, eyes wide, wincing. “But nor was it intelligence. Your hair was blatantly violating regulation and your companion . . . eurgh.”

“Smelled like the inside of a boot, I know”, she sighed.

“I can’t criticize your friend Finn, though. He hit ever mark right down to the stoic facial expression. Probably could have fooled even me if I didn’t look at him closely enough. Pains me to say it but he might have made a fine officer if circumstances had been different.”

“He makes a fine enough one for the other side. We’ve had a one-hundred percent success rate with First Order traitors so far.”

“‘ _So far.’”_ He repeated. “You’re insinuating I’m going to smear up your perfect record.”

“No offense, but if anyone’s gonna smear it up, it’s you.”

“None taken,” he replied, although his tone suggested that there absolutely was. “However you also seem to be suggesting a large number of the Order went turncoat.”

“Finn and an entire battalion, yeah,” she smiled to herself.

“No,” he shook his head shrewdly. “There are more, aren’t there? What ranks?”

“If you’re going to get upset that we have people above the station of trooper, I’ll remind you that _you_ were once ranked one of the highest.”

“You have officers!” he exclaimed, expression caught somewhere between offended and hopeful. “ _Who_?”

“All in good time, Hux.” She pressed a potato into his hand. “Just now, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to divulge that information to you.”

* * *

She would not, in fact, divulge that information to him the following night, or even in the following weeks, but he still found himself in her home at least once a week, and had begun to take a grudging comfort in the routine of it; preparing, cooking, even the washing up after, and even when it followed a long day of performing whatever tasks Poe and Finn had assigned him. Ben would continue to try and sit with him in the canteen, always cautiously staring but never speaking to him. It was off-putting and even creepy, but Hux was determined not to let this new version of Ren get under his skin the way the old one had. This one, at least, didn’t take out his temper on him and it was almost satisfying the way Rey seemed to have a leash on him, even under the guise of affection.

He still felt out of place in this alien environment, although it was preferable to the leadership he had been under before. Finn obviously still disliked him, and that was with him still miraculously ignorant of his growing closeness with Tico, but managed to muster a decent amount of basic respect in spite of it. Hux imagined their positions being swapped had a lot to do with it. And Poe . . . he was a strange man who seemed to take his newfound leadership position with reluctance, which was also a foreign concept to Hux, who had always been eager to claw his way to the top of the command chain.

His new superiors found him just as enigmatic as well; both of them had expected him to be far more of a problem than he was turning out to be. It had been around six weeks since his arrival on base and after a long thought process and a bit of arguing, they came to the agreement that it was time to give him a little more in the way of responsibilities – and liberty. He sat awkwardly among a small circle of people in a briefing room early one morning; Rose had sunk down beside him, close enough to give him confidence but not so close as to arouse suspicion that they were anything other than colleagues or friendly acquaintances. She could sense his discomfort as his eyes darted around the room, settling warily for a moment where Ben and Rey sat on the opposite side.

Finn and Poe were just outside the door.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Finn asked hesitantly.

Poe shook his head. “No,” he replied confidently and without hesitation. “But if you have a better one, lemme know.”

“What are you even trying to accomplish, besides disaster? It’s like putting two angry cats in a bag. Except one of them –”

“Look,” Poe held his hands up. “How many other times have you thought I was leading us to doom and disaster and it turned out fine.”

Finn rolled his eyes, blinking furiously and trying to remain patient. “I got tired of counting.”

“Buddy, if I turn out to be wrong about this . . . then you can scold me for as long as you want. But I think this is best for them. For all of us.”

“Okay,” he nodded, opening the door. “Let’s do this, then.”

“Good morning!” Poe forced a smile as he entered the room, looking around at everyone, still unsure how he had ended up in this position. It was always humbling to see all of those faces looking up at him, the obvious trust they placed in him was both terrifying and comforting. He loved them all and honestly would have liked nothing better than to tell them all to go home and live life as normal people. Rey always had a warm smile for him, even when she thought he was being an ass. He hoped it would still be there after he had given assignments.

He took a deep breath, pressing his fingertips together. “Okay, got a busy day today, gonna disrupt a few people’s routines, I hope that’s not asking too much. First things first, Chewie, I got good news and bad news. Bad news is, you won’t be on the _Falcon_ this assignment, I’m sorry.” Chewie growled at him unhappily. “Yeah yeah, I said I’m sorry. Good news is, Kin’s going to Kashyyyk and you’re going with him. Diplomatic stuff, easy trip, say hi to your family for us.”

The wookiee nodded, now roaring happily and ruffling Kin’s hair.

“Next on the agenda, Connix, Statura, we got intel that there’s still First Order presence in Coruscant. I sent you details just a few minutes ago. Take Jannah’s crew and neutralize it, please. Body count low, if you can help it. And lastly . . .” he hesitated. “I need a small crew to take the _Falcon_ to Naboo, I have an informant there that I’d like to meet in person, your job is to get him here safely and discreetly, he's former First Order so he’s a little skittish about the possibility of being discovered. Again, easy trip but be diligent as always. Crew is as follows: Rey, Tico, Solo . . . Hux.”

Rose could only stare at the floor; she was certain the other three were as taken by surprise as she had been, although she might have been amused to see exactly how hopeful and pleased Ben looked at the announcement.

Hux found himself overwhelmed with the unbearable and slightly humiliating urge to take her by the hand but knew better than to act on it, however dearly he would have liked to. It was then that he realized how much of a source of comfort she had become for him and wasn’t sure if he liked the idea or not, as being a loner had served him well for most of his life. He was unable to ponder for very long as the room was dismissed and he stood to his feet, finding himself face to face with Finn.

“This is against my better judgment, but we’re giving you a shot. This is one instance where I’d really like to be proven wrong.”

To Hux’s surprise, the General held a blaster in his hand and offered it to him. “Don’t make me regret not leaving you behind.”

Hux swallowed, slowly reaching out and accepting the proffered weapon, feeling almost sick as he forced the words from his mouth. “Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”

After all, it wasn’t really Finn that worried him about any of this.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too fluffy? Not fluffy enough? The second half underwent so many re-writes, you have no idea! 
> 
> PS: I really liked the idea of "Rey Nobody" as suggested in TLJ. So I'm still acknowledging her relation to Palpatine, but I like to think that she'd be comfortable not having a surname. After all, Finn is one of her best friends and he doesn't have one, either.


	3. Scorch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward conversations and unexpected reunions. A touch-starved Hux breaks just a little.

_ **They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered** _

_ **\- F. Scott Fitzgerald** _

“And you were convinced he was going to bother you.”

“He _is_ going to, mark my words,” Hux hissed at Rose where they sat at the dejarik table, currently switched off, aboard the Falcon. “Just give him time, right now he’s too excited about Naboo. Just because his family used to vacation there doesn’t mean this is a fun little excursion. Idiot.”

“It’s not exactly a dangerous undercover mission, either,” she replied wryly. She knew Poe too well to not cotton on to what he was trying to accomplish; the tension between Hux and Ben made the entire base uncomfortable, and for good reason. “Besides, it is his grandmother’s home planet.”

“I’ve never met someone so obsessed with his own lineage,” he grumbled.

“You’ve never wanted to go back to your home planet?”

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head. “They joined the New Republic not long after the fall of the Empire, why would I ever want to go there?”

“There’s seriously _no_ reason you’d want to go back at least once, none at all?”

He turned to look at her properly, the smile slipping from his face. “No,” he answered softly. “There’s not.”

“Okay,” she nodded, resisting the urge to add _‘If you say so’,_ deducing that it would be unwise to prod for now, with him already prickly about Ben, who chose that moment to stride into that particular area of the ship, a large thermos in his hand. He stopped and silently poured two cups, placing one in front of each of them, before exiting, still, without a word.

“I wouldn’t drink that,” Hux muttered darkly.

“He’s not out to get you, how long is it going to take for you to realize that? And you do realize he’s been making the caf on base for weeks now?”

“He’s still as creepy as ever, which is saying a lot. Just doing all of this _nice_ nonsense to try and win everyone over, as if that makes up for half of what he’s done.”

She stared at him, thoroughly unimpressed. “Do you have any idea how hypocritical the words coming out of your mouth are right now?”

He pointed angrily towards the cockpit. “He and I are _not_ the same, don’t you dare –”

“Rose?” a voice called out.

Hux frowned mid-sentence, deflating. The voice had belonged to Ben.

“Yeah?” she called out, brows drawn tightly as she stared at her angry companion.

“Can you c’mere for a minute?”

“Sure, gimme a sec.” She got to her feet, reaching out and stroking Hux’s hair softly. “I don’t want to fight with you,” she said kindly. “But if you can’t look past what he’s done, how do you expect me to do the same for you?”

His face fell, going a bit paler even than normal; he might have felt less of a punch had she actually hit him. He covered her hand with his own for just a moment, regarding her with an almost scared, broken look in his eyes when she gave him the softest of smiles and walked away.

“Everything ok?” she asked when she entered the cockpit.

“Never better,” Ben answered, replacing the gold dice where they hung; he had been toying with them yet again. He stood up, gesturing for Rose to take his place. “Help settle a friendly argument, do you think this seat is comfortable?”

“Um . . .” she sank down into it, glancing at Rey, and then him, awkwardly. “It’s ok, I guess?”

Rey’s face twisted in obvious confusion. “What the – we were _not_ discussing any such thing.”

“Good.” he placed the headset on Rose before quickly dashing off. “Congratulations, you’re the co-pilot now.”

“What . . . what just happened?”

“You got Solo-ed,” Rey replied dryly. “Delightful, isn’t it?”

“Was this really a four-person job?” Rose asked sardonically.

“Absolutely not, you and I both know that. Poe knew what he was doing, although I’m not sure he factored our sanity into the equation. I’m not Ben’s _handler_ , I’m not sure why everyone is under that assumption.”

“You are though, it’s just too silly to make an official job title out of it.”

Rey rolled her eyes, but smiled. “And those two are the last people that poor man on Naboo will want to see after going turncoat and spilling everything that he did. Especially since he’s under the impression they’re both dead. His sanity evidently wasn’t factored in, either.”

“All for what, so they can make friends?” Rose sighed wearily.

“I don’t think they’ll ever be friends and I’m not sure either of them wants that, even Ben. But if we’re all going to coexist on the same side together, they at least need to bury that ridiculous animosity between them. But speaking of handlers and sanity, curious that Poe chose _you_ to be the, well ‘me’ in this situation. I was under the distinct impression you had an unpleasant run in with our little informant back there.”

“He tried to have me executed. I bit him. But that was a long time ago.”

“Funny how things change.”

“What’s that stupid smile for?” Rose frowned.

“I just said. It’s _funny_.”

* * *

The conversation between Ben and Hux had not been quite as productive nor amiable, in fact they had sat wordlessly for several uneventful minutes just staring at one another. Well, Ben stared. Hux glowered, before finally breaking the silence.

“What do you want from me?”

“I’m. . . I’m sorry, Hux.”

“You think your paltry apology is going to remotely make up for what you took from me?” he countered, arms crossed.

“No,” Ben shook his head, staring down at the board.

“However,” Hux continued grudgingly, softly. “I suppose it’s a good way to start.”

Ben allowed himself the tiniest of smiles, still staring down. “You’re not doing this for either of us, are you?”

“And you’re not making the desire to hit you again any less attractive. Stop poking around where your mind doesn’t belong.”

Ben huffed out a low laugh before he could help himself. “Empathy just picks up on what’s already shouting, whether it knows it’s being loud or not.”

“What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?” Hux shook his head. “You’re even more cryptic now than you were before.”

“And you’re as narrow-minded as ever,” Ben smiled.

“You’d be surprised,” Hux responded dryly, the hints of a lopsided smile at his lips.

“I hope so.”

* * *

“You looked better in black,” Hux muttered under his breath as they walked out of the hangar where they had left the _Falcon_. Rose had swapped out the casual clothes she wore on base for the clean cut brown uniform of a Commander, hair knotted smoothly at the back of her neck. “But at least your hair’s not a mess.”

“Better to have messy hair than a messy life,” she smirked.

“Did you really have to make me go out publicly looking like this?” he lamented.

“What’s wrong with the way you look?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Hair hanging down in my eyes, a week’s worth of scruff on my face and nothing but this hideous shirt and pants between me and the elements?”

She rolled her eyes. “We can’t have you strutting around in that superfluous coat looking like the guy who decimated the Hosnian system. Just be glad your ‘unkempt’ appearance was enough to disguise you so we didn’t have to resort to a hood or mask.”

“Perish the thought,” he muttered, lip curled in disgust as he glanced at Ben, who was in fact, hooded to the point it concealed his eyes. It was then that Hux began to genuinely wonder if they had both been concealed well enough and questioned the wisdom, or lack thereof, of sending either of them on this mission, let alone both together. He and Rose were good enough with a blaster, while Ben and Rey’s supernatural abilities were ridiculous, but he hoped it would be enough should either of them be recognized. Still, he felt slovenly.

Rose sensed his agitation, glancing at him sidelong with a small smile as he scratched at his face. “Poor thing. Let’s go get our guy and then you can get a haircut and a shave the minute we land on base, okay?”

He dropped his hand wearily to his side and heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, Commander.”

She raised her eyebrows, smile widening. “You’re right, I do like that.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he winked. “So who and where is ‘our guy’, anyways? I’ve been dragged on this mission as nothing more than a tag-a-long, it seems.”

“I told you, he’s former Order, like you. And he’s currently on this planet, also, like you. If it makes you feel better,” she went on, noticing his infamous scowl making its return, “he doesn’t know, either.” She gestured at Ben, who was a few paces ahead of them, looking as intimidating and broody as ever in his new set of gray robes; he too sported facial how now, although it had been there for weeks. Somehow it suited him.

“It should, but it doesn’t,” he frowned.

“Because he’s not bothered?”

“No! But of course he’s not bothered, he’s in paradise, the idiot. The sooner we find our traitor, the sooner we can leave.”

* * *

“You’re scaring him, stop!”

“I’m not doing anything, Hux.”

“You’re alive, that’s alarming enough in itself, I would know from personal experience!”

“Sorry for not being dead!” Ben hissed sardonically.

“You should be!”

“You’re both the problem, SHUT IT!” Rey shouted, her expression softening as she turned to their informant. “I’m so sorry we had to start out like this, General Dameron had a fit of eccentricity and combined your retrieval with a pet project, of sorts.”

“You don’t say,” the man replied weakly, paling to a sickly hue as he nervously observed the two men arguing behind her.

“I’m Rey,” she smiled, extending a hand. “And you must be . . .Porg, was it?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he replied sheepishly, shaking her hand. “My proper name is Dopheld Mitaka.” His polite smile was short lived as his eyes kept straying behind her again.

“I take it you know those two?” she winced.

He nodded stiffly. “I served under them both on the _Finalizer_. Forgive me but. . . I was under the impression they had both died.”

“Oh no,” she shook her head dismissively, casually. “I was actually the one who died, but it’s better now. This is one of my partners, Commander Tico.”

The forced smile on his face was now nothing short of comical; he was startled by the casual tone with which she mentioned ‘getting better’ from dying to nonchalantly introducing her friend. He extended his hand nonetheless, years of practiced subordination still ingrained in him. Rey made a mental note to mention it to Poe; no one deserved to feel obligated to blind obedience, or even politeness, out of fear.

“You’re . . . you’re certain you’re Resistance?”

“Mr. Mitaka, why were you under the impression that Mr. Hux was dead?” Rose asked.

“I’d heard he had turned against the Order and was executed for . . . oh.” He allowed himself the smallest of disbelieving smiles as he glanced at Hux, making tentative eye contact. His expression was one of defiance battling the shame he still felt at what he had done.

“It’s good to see you alive, Mitaka.”

“And you, Gen –”

“Ah ah, just ‘Hux’ now,” he corrected him softly, stepping forward now to take his hand. “You look well.”

The former lieutenant relaxed just a bit; he had always gotten on well with his superior and his skittishness had been out of a small fear of retaliation, should this have been all a hoax to punish him for treason and spying. He managed a genuine smile now as he shook Hux’s hand. “And you look . . . different.”

“We’re on the same level now, you can say ‘like hell’, if you want to.”

“No sir,” he laughed softly, forgetting himself again. “Just different.”

“If you say so.” He turned to Rey and Rose, questioning. “Shall we go now? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to experience the sticky humidity, bugs and inexplicable nighttime chill on your lovely base.”

***

His atypical desire to return to base was, to his chagrin, not sated, and he found himself instead exploring the capital, seemingly to everyone’s delight but his. Mitaka made an ideal tour guide and everyone else seemed delighted to let him lead them. He still kept a comically safe distance from Ben. Hux wanted to go home, telling himself that the image of a kitchen countertop his mind suddenly conjured for his mental viewing pleasure had nothing to do with it. He really was uncomfortable being blatantly out and about like this; his red hair and Ben’s mere size were enough to draw eyes, which was the last thing they needed right now. His heart sank at the realization that he would probably always need to remain in disguise or hiding in some way or another lest he be recognized.

“Hey,” Rose whispered, gently bumping the back of her hand against his. “Don’t look so happy, people will think you like it here.”

“I _don’t_ like it here!” he hissed.

“Lies,” she shrugged.

“Look, it’s beautiful here,” he sighed. “But our assignment was to get here, grab Mitaka, and bring him back to Dameron. We’ve got him, why not go while it’s still safe?”

“What exactly do you think is going to happen? This is one of the safest planets in the galaxy.” She offered him the cup she was holding.

“Safe for _you._ I don’t want that,” he scowled.

“Yes you do. I can’t finish it anyways.”

He grudgingly accepted, fighting to keep the scowl on his face; the creamy, fruity contents of the cup really were delicious and he now regretted not getting one for himself. “You’re being far too careless, this is the sort of stupidity that almost got you executed.”

“Hey, hey you!” A small child was running towards them, stopping just short of bumping into him and grinning, breathless, as he stared up at them. Hux shot a meaningful glare at Rose.

“You’re really tall,” he blurted out.

“And you’re short,” Hux frowned.

“Be nice!” Rose hissed.

The boy continued to stare up at him, squinting against the sun. “Are you Resistance?” he asked.

Rose smiled softly at the way Hux stiffened; had he been an animal, his hackles would have been thoroughly raised. “Yes, he’s Resistance,” she answered quietly.

“Are you his boss? What are your names? I’m Bala.”

“Bala! Bala come here, leave those people alone.” A woman was hurrying towards them, looking a bit ruffled. “I’m so sorry about him, his curiosity will be the death of me.”

“No harm done,” Hux replied, surprised at the softness of his own voice. “He’s only a child, curiosity is healthy in a boy his age.” He crouched down, putting himself at eye level with the boy. “Her name is Rose. I’m Scorch.”

“Cool,” Bala replied thoughtfully. “Is she a nice boss?”

Hux glanced up at Rose mischievously. “The nicest.” He turned back to Bala and his mother, who was now staring at him with growing suspicion.

“What sort of a person names their child ‘Scorch’?” she asked quietly. “That’s not your proper name, is it?” she questioned as he stood to his full height, eyes locked on his as if trying to place him. “ _You!_ You _are_ him”, she hissed, pulling her son close, fear and anger flooding her expression. “General Hux.”

“General Hux is dead,” Ben stated, blunt and bold, hand stretched calmly towards her.

She paused for a moment, blinking, a passive smile on her lips. “Of course,” she laughed. “General Hux is dead.”

Ben’s eyes dropped to Bala, who had begun to look frightened, and then back up at his mother. “Go about your day. Buy him whatever he wants.”

She nodded dreamily. “Come along, Bala, let’s get you whatever you want.”

Hux watched them go until they had disappeared into the crowd before whipping around and glaring at his companions. “ _That_ is exactly why we need to leave. Now.”

“He’s right,” Rey nodded, sighing. “We got lucky, we can’t pull that trick on an entire city, and I’ve gotten a few questions about my family tree as well. It seems myths travel quickly.”

“I’m sure General Dameron won’t want to be kept waiting much longer anyways, at any rate,” Mitaka said sheepishly.

“General Dameron is an idiot,” Hux said dismissively. “He’ll probably be disappointed we came back without a souvenir for him.”

* * *

“What, no souvenir?” Poe grinned when they had returned, meeting them in the hangar.

“What did I tell you?” Hux scoffed, turning to his four companions. “We’ve brought you your informant, isn’t that enough?” He asked distastefully. “One Dolpheld Mitaka for your interrogating pleasure. Be good to him, he was one of my best.”

“I have no doubts,” Poe replied confidently with a small smile. “I’ve got something for you, too, Hugs. Or someone. At least I think it belongs to you.”

“Some . . . one?” Hux asked, bemused.

“C’mon, in my office,” he inclined his head towards the other side of the hangar; they all followed. Poe was careful to shut the door after they had all shuffled in. “Ah, right where I left you”, he smiled, reaching for the seat of his chair. Hux’s eyes widened.

“It _can’t_ be!” he gasped.

“So this _is_ yours?” Poe grinned, turning to them with a fluffy orange cat in his arms. “I mean I kind of figured since the tag on the collar said ‘Hux’, but weirder coincidences have happened.”

“Millie!” Hux reached out, and endearingly enough, the cat reached out for him as well, immediately burrowing into him as she was exchanged between the two men, tucking her head tightly beneath his neck. “ _How_?” Hux asked no one in particular, still incredulous.

“A crew found her in some of the wreckage on Exegol, beats me how she’s alive at all, let alone in one piece. Maybe they really do have nine lives.”

Hux tore his gaze away from the ball of fur clinging to him and met Poe’s eyes. “Thank you, Dameron. Really.”

Poe just nodded, still smiling. “You must be tired, go ahead and take the rest of the day off. Thank you for your service, Hux. Or, what is it that I hear you’re calling yourself now?” He inquired playfully. “Scorch?”

“Yeah, Rose chimed in. ‘Scorch’.”

“You take the rest of the day off, too, Tico,” he winked. “Wrangling rookies is tough work, I imagine. Solo, show Mitaka to the canteen, go ahead and get settled, I’ll meet you both there in a little while. Rey, hang back if you would?”

Once it was just the two of them in his office, he looked at her with eyebrows raised. “Well? Did it work?”

“Not really,” She winced. “But it’s a start. I doubt they’ll be hugging it out anytime soon but there were no fights and no attempts on anyone’s life. Ben managed to corner him alone for a bit but he still won’t tell me what was said.”

“Good,” he nodded, staring at the floor. “I don’t really care if they hug it out or not, or even if they like each other, but they’ve gotta let go of whatever happened before. Both of them should be dead but the galaxy kept them alive for some reason, I’d hate to see either of them waste time in their new lives because of old wounds.”

“Ben still won’t tell me exactly what he did to make Hux hate him so much. But then again,” she added resignedly, I spent enough time hating Kylo Ren myself, so I can sort of see where he’s coming from.”

* * *

“I never knew you were an animal person,” Rose commented as she walked to the barracks with Hux, Millie still burrowed contentedly in his arms.

“I’m most certainly _not_ ,” he replied sternly. “But this one just . . . showed up.”

“A cat randomly showed up aboard a star destroyer?” she looked up at him in sardonic disbelief.

“No,” he scowled. “We were planetside, some backwater slum, nothing but smugglers and criminals, makes even Tattooine look like a paradise. But we had a contact there so it was a necessary evil. I was headed back to my transport when I nearly stepped on her, she was so small. I don’t know why I picked her up, she was filthy and so skinny, probably didn’t have more than a day or two left for the world. She fit in my pocket.” He smiled fondly at the memory, fingers caressing the now-grown cat’s head. “I guess . . .” he went on reluctantly, “I guess you could say I saw a bit of myself in her. My younger self, anyways.”

She couldn’t help but notice the way he had gone slightly pink; it was unlike him to open up like that, and it was then that she decided she quite liked Millicent and this hidden side of him that she had coaxed out just by existing. She let her hand drift to the small of his back and stroked it for just a quick moment as they walked. “Feel up to the usual?” she asked.

He nodded thoughtfully. “I’d like that, it’s good to be . . . back here. Let me get her settled in first, and get this ridiculous mess off of my face, though, would you? I won’t be long.”

“How’s this sound, you guys go get settled and cleaned up and I’ll be over in a bit with everything we need?”

He glanced down at her and nodded, still wearing that odd, soft smile. For one bizarre moment, he had leaned down and she had almost made to stand on the tips of her toes as if to exchange a quick peck of the lips before they both stopped themselves. While they had spent a decent amount of time in eachother’s company, it had been a few weeks since they had actually kissed and so they were both taken aback at the casualness of what they had almost just done in plain sight.

“Um,” she bit her lip. “Sandwiches okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded briskly, looking at the ground as they parted ways to their respective living quarters. “Sounds ace,” he added awkwardly. “Just let yourself in, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

“‘Kay,” she said, voice slightly higher than normal as she walked away.

“Miss Tico!” he called out after they had gone several paces away from each other. She turned to look at him; he glanced this way and that, checking for bystanders, and giving her a quick wink when he was sure they were safe from curious eyes. He punctuated it with a grin before turning away again.

She hastily swapped out her uniform for loose-fitting pants and a t-shirt, and gathered what she needed for their early dinner, somehow more eager this time than usual for their semi-regular routine, although very much unsure why it felt different this time, why she felt the strong need to be with him when they had spent the past few days together, with much of it restricted to being aboard a ship. Then again, they had not exactly been alone, been free to be as comfortable around each other as they had grown accustomed to. She blamed it on the way space travel interfered so dreadfully with a person’s sleep schedule. She stopped abruptly on her way back out the door, noticing that a small couch had been placed in her small living quarters. She shook her head dismissively, making a mental note to thank whoever had been responsible later.

As comfortable as she had grown with him, it still somehow felt intrusive and unnatural to enter his dwelling when there was no answer to her knocks. She put one tentative foot over the threshold, peeking in with ridiculous caution as she pushed the door open further. The same couch that had appeared in her own home was here, too, in a slightly different shade of gray. Two bright green eyes could be seen just under the edge, peeking out, wide and alert. Her lips curved into a small smile as she closed the door behind herself and set the groceries down in the kitchenette. “It’s okay,” she said softly, taking items out of the bag and placing them on the counter. “You’re safe now. I bet you could tell us a story as exciting as ours was, huh?” To her amusement, there was an answering _meow_. “Something tells me you don’t care much for excitement.” She sighed. “I can sympathize. I think we’ve all had quite enough of that for a while.” _Meow_. “I bet you’re hungry,” she smiled, tearing off a few shreds of meat and crossing back to the other side of the cramped room, crouching down. “Here you go.” She dropped it just in front of the couch, then scooted back and waited. It didn’t take long for a twitching pink nose to emerge, cautiously sniffing at the proffered meal before snatching it and retreating back beneath her haven.

“Talking to animals now, little rebel?”

“She’s _your_ animal,” Rose laughed, not letting on just how much she preferred this nickname to _‘Commander’_ , although that was pleasing in an interesting way, too. Or how alarmingly agreeable to the eye he was; while the scruff had been endearing, there was simply something about the way he looked clean-shaven with his hair causally slicked back, with the now ever-present rebellious bits that fell just short of his eyes. He, too, had swapped out his garb for something more casual.

“I like to think of her as my confidant, thank you very much. She’s a good listener, has never told anyone my secrets yet,” he added with a playful smile.

“You have secrets, Hux?”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” he countered shrewdly.

She was spared the obligation to answer; Millicent had chosen that moment to finally dart out from her hiding place, circling Hux’s feet before standing on her hind legs and pawing at him. He smirked in feigned annoyance, lifting her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Sweetling. I really did think you were done for.”

“You never said anything about her,” said Rose. “I’m sorry, too. You must have been upset.”

He huffed out a small laugh. “An understatement, I had quite a lot to be _upset_ about. It just got filed away with the rest of the mess. Imagine me being upset over a dead cat when I engineered weapons that rendered billions of lives into extinction.”

“You’re still human. A really, _really_ screwed up one, but human just the same. You’re allowed to have feelings.”

“Hm. Easy for you to say. I’m sure you didn’t spend your formative years and most of the ones following being made to feel like your emotions were criminal. Ironically, while being trained to do criminal things.”

She had gone back to the kitchenette, laying out plates and slices of bread. “No,” she shook her head, smiling sadly. “We were a pretty touchy-feely household. It was always okay to cry, just not get stuck in it.”

“Tell me more,” he muttered, almost as if he was ashamed of his own request, earnest interest on his face in spite of it. Millie wriggled out of his arms and leaped back to the floor, leaving him free to wash up and help her.

“It was also okay . . . to celebrate. Big things, little things. Anything that happened that made us happy, or that someone had accomplished or overcome, it was a reason to celebrate. So many nights,” she shook her head, smiling fondly, “so many hours of laughter spent with family, with neighbors.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible.

She looked up, alarmed; he took shaky breaths, lips pressed tightly together and brows knit, leaned over the counter with his shoulders rounded. “What’s wrong?”

“I should go,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey!” She put her hands atop his where they gripped the edge of the counter. “First of all, you live here, genius,” she laughed absurdly. “Second, what are you so sorry about?”

“I – I took all that from you.”

Her grip on him tightened and she swallowed hard. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. You couldn’t have been much more than a boy.”

“I was _there_ ,” he growled. “I did enough. I gave orders, I pulled triggers, I –”

“Hux, stop!”

“I _enjoyed it_ ,” he groaned miserably.

She grasped his face firmly in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. “And now you regret it,” she stated steadfastly. “ _Now you regret it._ You’re not that person anymore.”

“Am I not?” he asked piteously.

“I really don’t think you are,” she answered softly.

His face fell at the sight of her blinking back the wetness in her eyes.

“Now I mean it, stop it,” she went on, forcing a laugh. “We’re trying to celebrate your stupid cat and you’re ruining it.”

“I’m – ”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry again,” she laughed, expression going from worry to happiness when he did the same. “This is _good_ ,” she said reassuringly, reaching up to push the hair away from his eyes.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Sometimes healing hurts. You should know that by now,” she glanced at his leg.

“Like I told you,” he muttered, face slowly relaxing. “Feelings aren’t my forte.”

“We’ll get you there, spy guy. Now come on, help me finish dinner, if you wanna call it that. I don’t even know what time it is.”

* * *

“Where did these even come from?” she asked, indicating the couch they sat on. The setting sun sent it’s fading beams through the window directly behind, giving the entire room a brilliant orange tint.

“You have one, too, then?” he replied curiously, collecting their empty plates.

“Mmhmm. Seemed like a weird priority, putting furniture in these tiny little apartments.”

“Probably a sign we’re going to be stuck here for another extended period,” he sighed wearily.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Well – ” he hesitated, turning to face her from where he stood at the sink, his lips turning up rebelliously. “I suppose not, no. _Hey!_ ” He stared, affronted, as Millie hopped effortlessly onto his new couch . . . and promptly clambered into Rose’s arms. “She never does that, she normally hides from visitors. Not that I ever had visitors quite of your quality, but still.”

“What kind of people normally visited you?” Rose scoffed, laughing, going slightly cross-eyed as Millie sniffed her nose.

“Officers, mostly. And others you probably wouldn’t care to know about.”

“I’ll take your word for it, for now anyways.” She smiled warmly as the cat, satisfied with her examination, flopped down and curled into a tight ball in her lap.

He made quick work of the dishes, glancing back frequently just to take in the sight of them, wondering how something could be so delightful and yet in such a sickeningly adorable way. He dried his hands, tossing the dish towel aside and ambled over to join them, stopping for a moment to stare thoughtfully. Rose looked up at him, expectant and amused, softly running her fingers over Millie’s head.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just . . . I’ve missed this.”

“We were only gone for a few days,” she smiled. “But I think I know what you mean,” she added as he sank down beside her.

“I would get sent on some puff mission with not one, but _two_ kriffing Jedi.”

She lightly slapped his arm with the back of her hand. “That ‘kriffing Jedi’ stopped your cover being blown, remember? And, if I can be so bold to add, those two are probably the only ones who would understand – this.”

He nodded. “And that’s why Dameron stuck us all together in a tin can?”

“Probably,” she sighed, turning to him. “And I _am_ proud of you for sticking it out the way you did. I can’t imagine it was comfortable for you.”

“If I’d known it was Mitaka, I assure you I would have been a bit more eager. He really was one of my favorites. He’ll do well here, imagine he’ll get a full pardon and clemency and all the perks that go with it,” he added wistfully. “I never thought I’d regret showcasing my face to the galaxy as often as I did. Always imagined I’d be ruling it, not hiding from it.”

“You could always regrow the beard,” she teased.

“Darling,” he sighed dramatically, I now answer to a man who was once the lowest of my subordinates. My former superior and the bane of my existence seems to have risen from the dead and wants to be bosom companions. I have gone from commanding the galaxy’s largest army to doing grunt work for the enemy with their grossly outdated tech. And the highlight of my existence . . . is spending time in the company of someone who once had the sheer audacity to infiltrate my ship, hack into the security system and then _bite my hand_ when she was caught. Don’t you think,” he growled softly, tapping her nose with his finger, “that I am dealing with quite enough indignities for the time being without being forced to look like a bumpkin?”

She bit her lip, fighting a smile. “That was _so_ mean, and yet that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm.” She grabbed his wrist, putting his arm around her, amused by how stiff he suddenly went. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied softly, fingers nervously clawing at her shoulder. “It’s just I – you know I’m not good at . . . whatever this is.”

“Then I’ll have to teach you,” she said, soothing his restless hand with a gentle caress. “Lessons for lessons.” He only nodded in response, that tiny, reluctant smile playing at his lips, and for a while they simply sat like that, his arm slung over her shoulders while she stroked his fingers, both of their free hands absentmindedly petting Millicent as she lay curled in Rose’s lap. The waning daylight combined with the sound of purring was enough to lull them both into a state of comfort and relaxation that left them just on the edge of sleep, and Rose’s head had nearly nodded against Hux’s shoulder when the cat made a random retreat, startling them both.

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed with no small amount of disappointment as Millie skittered across the slick floor and disappeared into the bedroom. She looked up at Hux with a small pout.

“She does that, it’s nothing to take personally,” he murmured.

“If you say so,” she sighed, pulling his arm closer around her and burrowing slightly against his chest. She couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed to tense yet again, the way his now-free hand hovered in uncertainty. “It’s okay,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke his hair. “I promise, it’s okay.”

He faltered in returning the smile at first, hesitantly letting his hand stray further, and in a gesture of bravado, scooped her into his lap, a slight tremble going through his entire body and making him go endearingly pink in the cheeks.

“See?” she smiled, slinging an arm around his neck. “Not so bad, is it?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Just – odd.” It had been so long since he had experienced genuine, affectionate touch from another human that he felt as if he was violating some sacred rule, the shadow of Brendol’s disapproval looking over his shoulder even now. In the past it had always been about lust, maybe charm, but he had never charmed anyone with the intentions of keeping them very long, just participating in some carnal form of mutual stress relief. To hold someone just for the pure enjoyment of doing so still remained foreign and slightly uncomfortable, yet he was calmed by how naturally they seemed to fit together and the way she seemed completely at ease in his arms.

“Why do you tolerate me?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“I don’t _tolerate_ you, idiot. I like you.”

“But I – you _shouldn’t_.”

“Look,” she sighed patiently, stroking his hair with almost heartbreaking tenderness, “that guy from before, on the _Supremacy_ , the one who did all those horrible things? I don’t like him. But you? You, I like. Whether it makes sense or not. Now relax.”

With some difficulty, he managed to acquiesce, letting his arms snake around her more naturally, carefully and slowly, so slowly, pulling her against him in a way that was more affectionate than lustful. She tucked her head against his neck and grinned widely, pleased with both successfully tearing down another one of his walls as well as the contentment of being so close in itself. Still, she wondered almost sadly when, if ever, he had known a caring touch void of ulterior motive. She thought of Brendol’s Academy; he had mentioned it several times in passing and never with fondness. And then the years of rising through the ranks that followed, always on the edge of being disposed of, always wary of his own father’s attempts to harm him or end his life. She slipped her free arm behind him, hugging him tightly, protectively, a thrill running through her when he reciprocated, a contented hum escaping his lips as he squeezed her tighter. When his grasp finally loosened, she only looked at him in silent inquisition, one eyebrow raised almost expectantly, reclining in his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world

He could only heave a great sigh, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, cupping her face in his hand and pulling her close so that their foreheads touched while he gently stroked a thumb over her cheek. A soft press of lips, absent as soon as she had a chance to acknowledge it, and he simply leaned back, fingers tangling carelessly into her hair and his gaze burning steadily down at her.

In an attempt to fight sleep, she sat back up, resting her head against his shoulder now, amused at the way he still would insist on unceasing eye contact. “Now who’s easily distracted?” she teased. He grinned widely at the callback to that first night so many weeks ago.

“One good turn and all,” he shrugged.

“You’re a natural, Hux,” she laughed quietly, going silent for a few drowsy moments and blinking, startled, when sleep tried yet again to take her. “I should go,” she murmured, apologetic.

His face betrayed him before he could help it, arms suddenly renewing their grasp on her. “No!” he whispered. “Stay,” he added, eyes imploring with a slight desperation. “Please.”

She was fully awake now, and it was her turn to look alarmed and uncertain. “Stay?” she repeated blandly.

“Just…” he shook his head, swallowing. “Just – like this. Nothing more, I swear.”

“Are you sure?” she asked softly, tracing lines over his neck.

“No,” he shook his head, a shamefaced smile on his lips. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Okay.” The request had been unexpected, yet she knew how difficult it must have been for him to make it; he seemed almost ashamed of his desire for closeness, even if he might have desperately needed it.

His uncertainty seemed to melt away as she climbed into the bed beside him; he scooted downwards, wrapping his arms around her and laying his head on her chest with a contented sigh. She smiled at his newfound confidence, running her fingers firmly, but lazily through his hair, relishing the way he seemed to relax and grow heavier against her with every stroke, fully aware that this had a very real possibility of ending badly and hurting them both. But it was a risk that she, too, was willing to take. After a while, he turned onto his side, pulling her close and nuzzling his face against hers.

“Goodnight, little rebel.”

“Goodnight, Scorch.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I overdo it on the fluff? To quote Count Rugen - "And remember, this is for posterity, so . . . be honest."


	4. Crumbling Charade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not.'
> 
> \- Uncle Iroh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge, huge shoutout to the lovely and patient ElfMaidenOfLight for beta reading this chapter for me and setting me back on track. She deserves all the love!

Hux awoke with a violent start the following morning, body spasming, panting heavily and immediately pulling Rose closer in a panic; it startled her completely out of sleep – she struggled in his grasp for a few short seconds before recalling where she was.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she sighed heavily, letting her head fall against the pillow after a few moments of foggy terror. “What’s wrong?”

“Apologies,” he mumbled, kissing her forehead. “It’s nothing.”

“You were having a nightmare.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I said it’s nothing,” he repeated, growing agitated.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, eyes closed again, nestling against him drowsily.

“No,” he growled. “It will have slipped my mind by breakfast, I assure you.”

He stroked her hair, in a way that was far more protective than necessary.

She didn’t need to know that he had dreamed he was small again, happily cuddling a wild rabbit that he had found on the Academy grounds, or how furious Brendol had been to discover his son being ‘soft, demanding that he kill the filthy little animal himself to teach him a lesson.

Hux had been wracked with sobs, knife poised in hand, about to deal the killing blow when he had awakened. Ghosts of Brendol’s acts of cruelty invading his dreams was nothing new, though until now he had managed to keep them tucked away beneath layers of stubborn self-reliance and forced coldness. Never had he let bother him to quite this extent and on such a personal level. He had blocked out so much that sometimes it was difficult to remember what was real and what was not.

Despite what he had assured her, it would certainly not be out of his mind by breakfast.

“You don’t have to handle everything all by yourself anymore, you know,” she murmured sleepily, absentmindedly stroking her finger over his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt.

  
  


“Mind your business, little rebel.”

  
“Excuse you,” she said, pushing him onto his back and laying on top of him “you _are_ my business now.”

His lips contorted into a grudging smirk. “Is that so?” he asked in a hushed tone, appreciating the welcome distraction; she looked perfectly adorable perched like that, hair falling out of place from where it had been neatly knotted the day before. He couldn’t resist letting his fingers stray into her tresses, loosening the remaining pins and tossing them carelessly onto the nightstand, tongue darting out to wet his lips as the shimmering locks fell loose and tickled his face.

“Thought you didn’t like messy hair.”

  
  


“Hush,” he whispered, pouting.

  
  


“Make me.”

  
  


“Gladly.” He pulled her close, claiming her lips in a greedy, open-mouthed kiss, letting his free hand wander down, coming to a tentative rest on her backside and giving a small squeeze, letting out a small laugh when she responded by biting his lower lip. “Ow! You ill-tempered little thing,” he growled.

“That reminds me,” she grinned, and suddenly her mouth was at his neck, taking punctuated little nips at the sensitive skin there. “My homework is a bit overdue.”

“I’m impressed,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady, fingers tightening in her hair as she worked her teeth against his flesh, not quite to the point of pain. That is, until she bore down harder, in a way that was certain to leave a mark. He was unprepared for the feral growl that escaped her as both of his hands tightened their respective grips, one full of hair and the other flesh. “I was under the impression that a refresher course was in order after so long. Apparently not,” he panted.

“You were wrong,” she replied, maintaining a smug facade; even now she did not wish for him to know just how often she had thought of that night, when common sense and better judgment had taken a back seat to impulsive feelings and heady wine, how good he’d felt against her skin. The number of times she had replayed the scenario in her head, longing for a repeat, it was almost embarrassing.

“Although,” she added, “you could still give me a refresher now and again, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t – _ah!_ ” A slightly undignified keen passed his lips as she moved her attentions to his earlobe, insistently sucking and nibbling at it.

“Stop,” he gasped, grinning in spite of himself. “ _Stop it_ now, I mean it.” He gave her hair a light tug, sneering softly at her when she ceased her pleasant torture and met his gaze with her dark, soulful eyes. “Careful,” he warned, eyes narrowing.

“Sorry,” she muttered, grinning somewhat impishly. “Didn’t realize you’d like that so much, but it’s good to know,” she added coyly.

  
  


“All in good time, little one.” He hugged her tightly, tipping them onto their sides and kissing her forehead. “If you’ll have me,” he added, almost guiltily.

  
  


“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked softly, stroking his face.

  
  


He closed his eyes in contentment, nuzzling into her touch. “Because you’re too good for me.”

She sighed heavily, giving him a piteous smile. “Look, this is strange for both of us. But that doesn’t mean it can’t…work . . . whatever this is. Even if ... it kind of scares me,” she added in a small voice.

.

“Good,” he replied. _‘Scares me too,’_ remained unsaid.

The slight tremble that went through him at his last words, however, said enough. Rose tried to keep the mingled surprise and relief from showing on her face too plainly, even in the dim pre-dawn light, she kissed him again, letting her hands wander despite the looming feeling of how strange and alien it all was.

There was a time when she might have been startled, uncomfortable even, with the way he did the same, his large hands roamed her body so freely, passing lightly, but firmly over her hips and thighs, rubbing circles into her shoulders, even stopping to creep beneath the edge of her shirt, his fingers hot on her skin.

She followed his lead, slightly surprised at how soft his skin was, how much his flesh gave beneath her fingers. She supposed she had expected his body to match the harsh, unforgiving quality of his mental and emotional nature, but that was certainly not the case.

She hesitantly rucked his shirt up a bit more, running her hands further up to his chest as he continued to return her lazy, wet kisses, his hands grasping her at the waist. It was only when she had tried to allow her touch to creep behind his back that he froze, smiling almost nervously, and took her gently by the wrists, pushing her hands away and tugging both of their shirts back down to where they belonged.

“Again,” he murmured, “let’s not get carried away or start things we can’t finish. Never thought I would be the one to tell _you_ that,” he teased, once again softly tapping her on the nose before kissing it and sitting up.

“No,” she replied, smiling and doing the same, very much aware that he had stopped her at the exact moment her fingertips had strayed far enough to touch a part of his skin that was not as smooth as the rest.

She was only slightly disappointed that he had put an end to their mischief. It was enough, for now, that he had let his walls come down enough to invite her into his bed. She was fairly confident that she could eventually build enough trust to let her see more of him, even if she had hoped to go just a bit further that morning. _‘_ _All in good time,’_ she thought. For now, the current challenge would be getting out of his apartment unseen.

Most days, Hux kept busy with various tasks, some of decent importance and others more menial, and while he was glad for it, he still relished the chances he got to steal away alone, never having realized until his time with the Resistance how much he enjoyed his solitude.

He enjoyed the times Rose was able to join him, but he had come to treasure his nightly, solitary meditation. Sometimes, he would wander to the stables and find Paz, reluctantly grateful to Kin for dragging him along on an adventure he had been thoroughly prepared to hate.

The old orbak was patient, and always seemed pleased to see him. Some nights, he didn’t even ride, simply finding comfort in her benign presence while he sat by the river or lay on his back counting the stars that he had once upon a time marked for destruction.

To the best of his knowledge, no one knew about his little excursions, and he intended to keep it that way, most of the time managing to slip back into the barracks unnoticed. The few times he did encounter anyone, they mostly ignored him, probably assuming he had gotten a late assignment.

It was on one such night, sitting in the valley, that he heard footsteps approaching and looked up. He had idly been ripping up handfuls of grass and handing them to Paz, who was more than content to accept his offerings as she lay beside him.

“Go away, Solo,” he groaned at the newcomer, scowling. “An entire planet and you always choose to be underfoot.”

Ben ignored him, sitting down instead. Paz stretched out her neck to sniff at him, hot breath ruffling his hair. Hux frowned, a twang of jealousy nagging at him when she nuzzled the former Supreme Leader, letting him rub her nose.

“Y’know I’m not any more popular than you are around here, right?”

“Of course you are,” Hux snapped. “You’re Ben Solo, son of the great General Organa, half of some bloody dyad and all that nonsense.”

Ben shook his head solemnly. “There are those who still call me Kylo Ren, just not out loud. Besides you. I haven’t been in your mind”, he added defensively, noting the angry glare Hux directed at him. “There are some things I just know. And I know you.”

“Not well enough, evidently,” Hux laughed with bitter satisfaction. “I still managed to tear your empire down, right under your arrogant nose.”

Ben nodded. “I was blind to a lot of things, your treason not least of all. I always knew you wanted to best me, I just never thought you’d throw everything else away to do it. Everything you worked for.”

“Yes, well,” Hux paused for a moment, staring out at the valley and tossing another handful of grass to Paz. “What did I have to lose anymore, besides my wretched, meaningless life?” He turned to face Ben, for once looking him in the eye, void of malice or detestation. “We could have done great things together, you and I, you know.”

Ben shook his head again. “It was always going to go belly up anyways, we both know that. It was all a lie. Even the two of us, the power we held, the power we _thought_ we held . . . we were just cogs in a bigger machine. But still,” he propped his elbows on his knees. “I had everything even before I knew you. I had it easy, with people who cared about me. And you,” he chewed at his lip, noting the ever so slightly pained expression Hux fixed him with, “you worked so hard for everything you had, to get where you were, and I took it from you.”

“You did,” Hux agreed stiffly, staring blankly at the valley again, one hand tangled in the long fur on the orbak’s neck. 

“I don’t ever expect you to forgive me.”

“I probably won’t,” Hux sniffed, haughty.

“Just know that I’ve regretted it daily.”

Unbidden, images of the destruction of Otomok system flashed through Hux’s mind. Regret indeed, although he knew the atrocities he committed on Rose’s home planet were far more egregious than Kylo Ren tearing his life’s work from his tight and greedy grasp. He sighed heavily, hating himself for what he was about to say, but knowing that it needed saying.

  
  


“Bygones, Solo. What’s done is done. There’s no point wringing our hands over it anymore.” He turned to him, the traces of a smile on his lips. “And here we are now, still stuck together, hating each other. Pathetic, both of us.”

“I don’t _hate_ you, Hux,” Ben laughed. “I never hated you.”

“You tried to strangle me.”

“Well . . . yeah,” he frowned, having the decency to look contrite.

“ _Don’t_ say you’re sorry. It’s patronizing at this point, honestly.”

“Yeah ...yeah, you’re right. Probably not much we can do at this point except start over.”

“Hm.” Hux ignored the other man as he rummaged about in the pockets of his robes, producing two shot glasses and a flask. He quirked an eyebrow when one of the glasses was held in his direction.

“What the hell is this?” he asked dryly.

Ben poured a small measure of neon pink liquor into the first vessel, and then another before pocketing the flask and extending his hand.

“Hi, I’m Ben Solo, human disaster.”

Hux rolled his eyes, disgusted with himself as he took the proffered drink and grasped the unnaturally large hand.

“Armitage Hux, traitor and spy.” He raised his glass.

“Nice to meet you, Hux.”

Hux raised his glass. “It’s really not, but here’s to not killing each other.”

“To not killing each other,” Ben echoed.

They both threw their shots back, Hux wincing as he handed the glass back to Ben. Whatever that drink had been, it had burned quite badly.

“I didn’t know you drank, Solo.”

“Just not often,” Ben shrugged, glancing up at the orbak and then back at Hux, who still sat propped against the animal, his clothes covered in loose gray hairs. “I take it you two are friends?”

“I don’t know where you’d get such a stupid idea,” Hux replied evenly as he leaned his head back further against the beast’s haunches. Once upon a time, he would have been disgusted at the very thought of doing so, on an animal such as this, but now… Paz turned her head to him and he reached out to pat her jaw fondly.

Ben smirked. “You’re right. Can’t imagine why I’d started to think, after all these years, that you’d actually have a heart,” he smiled.

“Oh, fuck off, Solo,” Hux frowned.

Ben chuckled, rising to his feet and patting his surly companion on the shoulder. “See you later, Hux.”

“Much later, preferably.” Hux waved him off. Then, almost as a reluctant afterthought, “Thanks for the drink.”

  
  
  


“Having a problem there, Hugs?” Poe smirked to himself as Hux angrily wiped the sweat from his face for what seemed like the nth time that hour.

“ _Why_ , for the love of all that is decent, do you people choose some of the most hostile planets to house your bases on? If it’s not frozen and uninhabitable, or salty, it’s hellishly –” he undid a few of his shirt buttons, recklessly tugging the fabric open – “ _hot!_ ”

“Because you Imperial pricks obviously hate being sweaty or cold or in danger. Don’t get your shorts in a twist, this is one of the nicer ones,” Poe laughed. “Beautiful scenery, plenty of shade, cools down at night. There’s always the pools to dip in, anyway.”

“Pools?”

“Yeah, about seven clicks east of here. Nice and deep, cold water, and nothing sinister under the surface.” He paused, looking a bit guilty. “No one ever told you about the pools?”

“No,” Hux scowled.

“Oh,” Poe winced. “Sorry about that. I guess I just assumed you knew, or had found it on your own.”

“I was never really the exploring type, to be frank.”

“And you’ve pretty much spent the past, what, twenty years in space?”

“More or less,” Hux nodded.

“Would explain why the heat bothers you more than most. Mitaka’s been a trooper, but I can tell it kinda bothers him, too.”

“Mitaka’s a good man,” Hux said sternly, with a small, fond smile. “He’s not like … like me, at all. He came from Imperial blood, but the similarities stop there. As a child or grandchild of the Empire, so to speak, joining the Order was always a given. He’s loyal and obedient to the last, or at least I thought,” he added.

“Yeah,” Poe laughed. “He’s been easier to deal with than you, you miserable son of a bitch.”

“Careful how you talk about my mother, Dameron. Nearly ended you last time you pulled something like that.”

Poe laughed again, observing Hux thoughtfully. While Hux’s tone had been lighthearted, Poe couldn’t help take note of the warning tone in the other man’s voice. “You got it, Hugs.”

  
  


  
When Hux was a boy, he’d been a reluctant swimmer. More often than not, he’d found himself pushed into the water against his will, usually by an older officer – company his father kept, just as gentle and as charming as Brendol himself. Water, typically, just did not generate good memories.

But it was so damnably hot. Hux couldn’t ever remember sweating quite this much before, or smelling quite so badly at the end of the day.

The initial shock of slipping into the natural pool hadn’t been so bad. In fact, it was oddly familiar; reminiscent of the chill of space.

He lay back, enjoying the solitude and icy water’s embrace, letting himself float both physically and in thought for some time, wondering how much longer the Resistance would see fit to remain on this planet, or at least keep him sequestered here. It was a tolerable enough place, for as much as he groaned about it, but try as he might, he really couldn’t picture himself remaining hidden here forever.

A distant rustle startled him from his brooding, and he scrambled to reach the bank, cursing as he tugged his pants on, managing to get himself just decent enough as Rose came into sight along the trail leading there. He forced himself into as casual a pose as possible, still feeling quite naked but unwilling to hid from her, either. He had never been comfortable dressing or undressing in front of other people; even decades later, residual memories from Academy locker rooms and showers haunted him.

She only seemed slightly surprised to see him, crossing her arms and glancing at him impishly, unable to stop her eyes from taking in the sight of so much skin. While still incredibly pale, it was impossible not to notice that his time on Ajan Kloss had stolen the sickly pallor that decades in space had given him.

She tried pushing her face back into submission when she noticed him glaring at her, brows raised almost indignantly. She could feel her cheeks redden in slight guilt, recalling how jumpy he had gotten at her previous gentle attempts to remove his shirt.

“It’s not nice to peep, Miss Tico,” he said smugly, pleased that his talent for wordless intimidation was still very much intact.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she replied coyly, unable to suppress a giggle when he actually pouted. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. I don’t have feelings,” he replied, even as he stretched out a hand, beckoning her to come closer.

She hesitated, still unsure if her presence was actually welcome after she had unintentionally startled him, but his expression had begun to soften and he wiggled his fingers impatiently. Tentatively, she closed the space between them and allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace, his skin still chilly and wet from his time in the water, hair dripping.

“Since you’re comfortable enough to be calling me ‘darling’, then you won’t mind me asking about the scars on your back?” she asked, only half-teasing. “The ones you freaked out about when I almost touched them the other morning?”

She chose to blatantly ignore the dangerous look on his face and the way he went rigid. She put her arms around him, hands gently but firmly caressing his back.

“I didn’t want you feeling badly for me,” he said stiffly.

“Sorry I don’t hate you anymore?” she teased. She slipped around beside him, fingers tracing the raised, pale stripes of flesh upon his back, not saying a word, the smile fading from her lips when she realized just how extensive the scarring was.

He managed to relax a fraction, pulling her close and holding her free hand against his chest, their fingers intertwined.

“What happened?” she murmured against his wet skin.

“Punishment for one of my earliest wrongdoings, and evidently one of my most grievous, at least in my father’s eyes. My crime,” he went on, looking down at her, knowing she would ask, – “was the shameful act of missing my mother. Brendol didn’t have much tolerance for tears, and I apparently produced far too many of them for his pride to handle.”

He looked away from her and back into the depths of the water before them,

caressing her hand. “I was five.” He paused. “You’re making that face, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“That – _that_ one,” he sighed, closing his eyes when he chanced a glance at her. “I hate it when you look that way. It’s pitiful.”

“I’m guessing pity’s as foreign a concept for you as affection, huh?” she prodded.

“It’s pointless.”

“It’s _not_ ,” she argued gently, hugging him tightly and looking up at him.

“Careful,” he smiled. “I might start thinking you actually care about me, little rebel.”

She gave him a sly look. “You be careful, too. I might start thinking you enjoy my company.”

“Disgusting,” he grinned, untangling himself, moving to hold her arms against her sides and leaning down to kiss her neck, smiling against her skin at the sound of laughter that escaped her. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” she said breathlessly, half-heartedly wriggling in his grasp.

“Good, because I need you to be serious,” he whispered between kisses.

“Why?” she asked, pulling one arm out of his grasp and grabbing his wrist.

“It’s time for lesson three. Pay close attention – _pay attention_ ,” he scolded, trying to be annoyed at her renewed giggling.

“Okay, stop fussing. I’m paying attention. Happy now?”

He barely mumbled a response before she felt teeth at her neck again, gentle nips slowly escalating into playful aggression. He noticed how she stilled, scarcely breathing at his attention.

“Talk to me,” he growled, once more soothing her bitten skin with a wet kiss.

“About what?” she laughed, taken aback at the absurd question.

“What you want,” he whispered, taking a few steps back to lean against a boulder and pulling her even tighter against him.

“That’s a loaded question, Hux,” she breathed, suddenly, inexplicably, feeling nervous.

He sighed impatiently, letting out a little chuckle and resting his chin atop her head. “I _meant_ what do you want right here and now. Are you going to take this seriously or do we need to get drunk and repeat our first lesson? You did say you wouldn’t mind a refresher.”

“No, no,” she said hastily, realization dawning. “Just go back to about thirty seconds ago.”

“Now she’s got it,” he smiled, dipping back down for a moment and then pausing, rolling his eyes in amusement when she reached up and slowly tangled her fingers in his wet hair.

“Use your words,” he ordered, taking her tightly by the hand. “Don’t be shy, we’ve been in more compromising situations than this,” he teased, barely grazing her with his teeth.

“More,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.

“More what?” he purred, licking a hot stripe from nape to earlobe.

“Harder,” she confessed, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks. “Like you mean it.”

She was unable to see the predatory smile on his face, too distracted by the way it felt to order him around. That he was allowing her to command him at all was strange, though not at all unpleasant, and somehow deeply sweet. She enjoyed the push and pull of their actions, ordering him to go a bit lower, bite a bit harder, oh, but not _there._

She jumped at the feeling of his fingers creeping into her shirt from behind, sneakily dipping in at the collar.

“ _Stop!_ ” she hissed, playfully slapping at his head, which only prompted him to bear down painfully with his teeth. “I said STOP!” she squealed, trying awkwardly to escape his arms. While the exchange was playful, anyone who may have been observing from behind would have interpreted it quite differently.

Hux really had intended to let her go in another moment or two, the risk of being slapped or accidentally poked in the eye be damned, but his amusement was cut short by the sound of footsteps approaching noisily.

“ _Karking hell_...” he muttered against her skin. “Every bloody time.”

“To be fair, it _is_ a pretty public place. Now _stop_ , for real.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, finally letting her wriggle out of his grasp.

She turned to face him, smiling fondly.

“Can I see you tonight?” he asked.

“If you behave, maybe,” she replied slyly, bending down to pick up his shirt and push it into his hands.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he whispered playfully.

Behind him, someone cleared their throat pointedly. Hux went stiff, straightening to his full height and turning around slowly. “General,” he nodded.

Poe was chewing on his lip, staring skyward and shaking his head. He turned to face them, eyebrows raised. “ _Really_? Is this our life now, me finding you guys in varying states of . . . _whatever_?”

“It’s not any fun from this side, either,” Rose scowled.

“Personally, I find it amusing,” Hux quipped dryly, tugging his shirt back on.

“Happy to hear you’re finally developing a sense of humor, Scorch,” Poe responded in a long-suffering way. “But just so you know, once this cat is outta the bag . . .” he shrugged. “You’re on your own.”

“Fortunately, I know a thing or two about cats,” Hux replied without missing a beat.

“I’ll leave it to the expert, then,” Poe replied with a smile, hands in the air as he turned away. “Oh, by the way, we’re having a bonfire on the beach tonight, nothing fancy. You should both come.”

“Stop sneering,” Rose grinned at Hux as they watched their general swagger away. “He’s right, you know,” she muttered.

“You think we can’t handle it?” Hux replied, the uncharacteristic, yet terribly appealing twinkle in his eye making an appearance.

“Of course we can,” she said, smoothing out the collar on his shirt. “But it’s not gonna be fun.”

“We’ve survived worse,” he murmured, his tone sly and soft. “Haven’t we?”

“We have,” she nodded thoughtfully. “I kind of like the sound of that word,” she confessed.

“‘Survived’?”

“No.” She looked up at him, eyes wide, smiling in a way that made his heart leap momentarily into his throat. “‘We’.”

  
  


  
  


Attending Poe’s little Resistance bonfire was at the bottom of Hux’s list of priorities, but Rose insisted, using the usual excuses of “It’ll be fun” and “You need to mingle more”. A load of rubbish, if anyone were to ask, but per usual, he found himself agreeing to things she so foolishly (in his opinion) rationalized.

“Must we stay very long?” he asked, scowling as they walked side by side, drawing ever closer to the beach in the distance, center of the revelry already glowing with flames that rose several yards skyward. His scowl deepened when he saw Ben’s silhouette on the shore, accompanied as always by Rey’s.

“You said you wanted to see me,” she teased, smiling widely.

“ _Alone_ ,” he grumbled, “Not with your little gang of . . . whatever they are, looking on.”

“They’re my friends, Hux. And I care about them.”

“What about me?” he frowned.

“You’re, you’re my – I care about you, too,” she answered softly.

“Am I not your friend?” He smirked as she sidled up to him.

“Don’t be like that,” she scolded, somehow still maintaining that painfully kind tone of voice. His slightly pouty demeanor did not go unnoticed, prompting her to take him firmly by the hand. “You know you’re my friend, Hux. Against all odds,” she added, smiling. “But --” she added, her smile growing just a bit uncertain, “You’re . . . something else, too.”

“So inarticulate, Tico,” he scoffed playfully, gently and unsuccessfully trying to tug his hand from her grip as they approached the beach, the sand spit already dotted with dozens of people.

“Hey,” she frowned, tightening her hold on him.

“What?” he replied, brows tight, glancing down at their linked hands and then at the distant crowd. “I thought you didn’t want anyone . . .” his voice trailed off at the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Poe already knows. Rey and Ben too, I’m sure of it. They’ve kept it under wraps, but … you and I spend a lot of time together, Hux. I’ve heard little rumors here and there. It’s only a matter of time. I’d rather them hear it from us than through a gossip chain, wouldn’t you?”

Hux had been unprepared for the way his heart hammered violently in his chest, a celebratory rhythm that made him forget how stupid he thought he looked when he actually smiled. He stopped in his tracks, staring down at her with trepidation and glee.

“Are you sure you’re ready to give up the sordid thrill of having me as your shameful little secret?” The corners of his mouth turned up just a bit – he really was useless at controlling his facial expressions when she was around.

“I was never ashamed of you,” she smiled sadly, standing on her tiptoes to take his face in her hands. “I was afraid for you, afraid you’d get spooked and that we’d lose you.”

“Stupid girl,” he mumbled fondly, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “You do choose the strangest causes to throw your energy into.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” she replied, turning to look at her people, her family, gathered on the sandy shore, laughter and chatter already audible over the roar of the ocean. She turned her gaze back to Hux – this man, once a monster, who continued to become more human with each passing day. “And I still have both of my causes, together in one place.”

“Dreadful place,” Hux commented, pulling her close.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, not really paying attention. “Wanna go give ‘em something to talk about?”

“Almost nothing would give me more pleasure,” he answered confidently, taking her hand once more and walking towards the beach.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm so, so sorry it's been so long since my last update. I posted on Valentine's day and then . . . the world went a little bit crazy. I'm 80% blaming the delay on Covid-19 -- I ended up working a lot of overtime because as Thor would say . . . "That's what heroes do." Rolling my eyes as I type 'heroes', by the way. 
> 
> As always, comments are the gasoline to my fire, and I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> P.S. Next chapter will be spicy ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> Do we like this? 
> 
> Apologies for lack of biting lessons, but I promise they'll get back to them pronto. I just feel like Rose would be very hesitant to go full blown teenaged mode on that one ;) Also I love the idea that Hux never really had time for dating once he finished Academy so he's still emotionally stuck at that point where things like holding hands and making out and just kissing are the best ever, like we do when we're young, and probably will never outgrow it.


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